A Pureblood's Prejudice
by SilverPhoenixRising
Summary: Harry James Evans never knew who his Father was. James Harold Potter, the new Defense Teacher at Hogwarts, is about to get the shock of his life.
1. Chapter 1

Prologue 

Sirius Black was never so sad in his life as when he heard the news. It was all over everywhere of course; they had sent out a special Midnight Prophet for the event. Though everyone was celebrating, Sirius and his friends were not. Yesterday night had been possibly the worst night of his life when the Prophet came by owl. One of his best friends, Lily Evans, had just been killed. They had not seen Lily in two years; after the break-up between her and his other best friend James, she disappeared. According to the newspapers she had had a son—with god only knows whom—and he had somehow managed to resist the killing curse and rebound it back on You-Know-Who himself.

This was wonderful news for the Wizarding World of course, in fact most people had celebrated on into this lovely day, but it was terrible news for Sirius, James, and their friend Remus. To top it all off, a few days before their other friend Peter had been caught as a DeathEater and was thrown in Azkaban for life. It was the worst week of Sirius' life.

If his week was going badly, he could only imagine what James was going through. James, who had claimed since the break-up almost two years before that he loved Lily more than anything and that he wanted to get back together with her—marry her, even, was more than heart-broken. He had gone into a deep depression, and despite Sirius' attempts, he would not leave his room. '_Things couldn't get any worse than this_,' Sirius thought. He was much mistaken.

Chapter One

"Sirius! Remus! We got the letters back!" James exclaimed running through the Mansion, looking for his two best friends. It was 1996, and James Potter, Sirius Black and Remus Lupin were all living together in the mansion James had inherited from his parents.

"Great!" said Sirius enthusiastically, snatching his letter from James. Remus just smiled and went over to James, politely taking his.

"Alright, we'll all open them on three," said James. "One…"

"Three!" Sirius cried, ripping his open. James followed with Remus rolling his eyes and using a letter opener to cleanly open his own mail. The three stood there for a minute, reading their own respective letters when they all exclaimed at the same time,

"I'm hired!" The three looked at one another, then they grinned.

"The Marauders are back again!" Sirius shouted, pumping his fist in the air.

"I wonder if we can snatch that map back from old Filch?" James plotted. Remus just shook his head.

"You know, we are going back to Hogwarts to be _teachers_ not Marauders."

"Aw, liven up a little, Moony," Sirius said with a beaming smile.

"I don't know what Dumbledore was thinking," Remus said, "when he hired all _three_ of us."

"He was thinking we were his favorite students," James said.

"Right. What was I thinking?" Remus said with playful sarcasm. Remus was happy that his friends had gotten the other positions, though he wasn't sure just what was going to happen that school year; after all, the Marauders being back as teachers was not an idea that set with the school well. This would be an interesting year.

Although the other two had had wonderful jobs as Aurors (and Remus had a job at a local muggle bookstore), they had decided that they wanted to go back to their old home to teach, and when there was need for a Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, they had all applied. James had gotten the position, with Sirius as an assistant teacher; he would be helping James with lesson plans as well as help some of the kids that were struggling. Remus had gotten the position of Care of the Magical Creatures professor and he couldn't be happier. It was an area of his interest, and he was very fond of his own assistant, Hagrid.

Yes, the marauders were back, even if they were to be more responsible than previously.

"I wonder who our protégés are," Sirius wondered with a glint in his eyes.

Remus sighed. This was going to be a long year.

"Come on you two, I think we better go over lesson plans; we only have a month of prep time before school starts!" Remus exclaimed, then took his letter and headed to the library. Nodding in agreement, James and Sirius followed their werewolf friend. He was almost always right, after all.

Not too many miles away just outside Ottery St. Catchpole, a sixteen-year-old boy with jet-black hair and emerald green eyes sat on a bed looking through a photo album. The dilapidated leather book had once belonged to his mother and had somehow been obtained by Hagrid when he left the wreckage of Harry's home fifteen years ago. The pictures were fading now, and turning slightly orange with the exposure to light, but Harry didn't care. They were pictures of his mother at all ages, most of when she was at Hogwarts. The pictures sometimes depicted her with some boys who he assumed were perhaps her friends. Two of the boys had black hair like Harry and one had sandy blonde—and slightly graying—hair.

One of these men he thought might be his father, as the two with black hair looked like they were enough like him. But however many times he asked Hagrid or Dumbledore they would never give him a straight answer. He had even tried asking Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, but they just gave him a sympathetic smile and said that they had no idea. The only thing anyone would ever tell him was that his Father was most likely dead, which was not much of a comforting thought to Harry Evans. He had thought that maybe, just maybe, one day his father would magically appear and take him away from the Dursleys forever, but no such luck. Harry was beginning to believe what everyone said about his father being dead; after all, it had been a time of war and everyone had assured Harry that his mother was not someone to go off and get pregnant with some random drunk. According to them, she was far too sensible for that. The fact still remained however, that Harry was virtually fatherless. He was beginning to even hope now that his father was dead, for what would he say to the man if he ever met him? No, his father perhaps was better off dead. It would just be too awkward.

Harry shut the album and put it in his trunk. Tomorrow he would be heading off to school with his two best friends, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger, as well as with Ron's pretty little sister, Ginny. Harry loved Hogwarts; it was his home and his life was there. It was definitely not all he had ever known, but it was all he had ever wished to know. Harry lay back on his bed, listening to Ron's snoring from the other bed in the room. At Hogwarts he knew he was safe. At Hogwarts he knew he had friends. At Hogwarts he didn't have to worry about such things as his dead parents; or so he thought.

"James, hurry up!" Sirius yelled to him above the noise at the train station. Ah, how James loved this feeling. He was going to ride on the Hogwarts Express once more. Although teachers usually didn't, it was getting close to the full moon and Remus wasn't feeling up to apparating to Hogsmeade. It was never every man for himself with the Marauders, so all of them would take the train to Hogwarts. They got on the train and were in the thick of the chaos; black robes swallowed them up as kids ran up and down the train, looking for the compartment that hid their friends. Suddenly, James found himself almost knocked over.

"Ron, Hermione, wait up!" said the voice right before James was unbalanced.

"Oh, sorry sir," said the teen with messy black hair and green eyes. James did a double take; that kid looked exactly like him, aside from the green eyes. Before James could reply however, the kid was gone.

"Did you see that kid?" James asked Sirius and Remus.

"Huh? What kid? I was looking for a compartment," Sirius replied.

"Sorry mate, so was I," Remus said. James shook his head. Maybe it was just a hallucination. They took a compartment and sat down.

"So, what'd this kid look like," Sirius asked as he put his things away.

"Exactly like me at sixteen," James said. Remus grinned.

"You're going nuts then, James," Remus replied.

"I know. It was just so…weird…because he didn't look _exactly_ like me. He had green eyes instead," James said, shaking his head.

"That's kind of strange. Well, I'm sure if this kid is real, it's just a coincidence. Maybe he's a distant relative, or something," Sirius said when he was done shoving his things in the compartment.

"Yeah, maybe," James said. The three then randomly switched topics to Quidditch, but not to professional Quidditch. They all wanted to talk about the House Cup.

"Gryffindor is my favorite to win," James said.

"Mine too," Sirius chimed in.

"Well of course it would be," Remus replied, rolling his eyes slightly. "Anyway, I think Gryffindor is actually the favorite to win this year; from what I hear, they've had an unbeatable seeker for the past five years."

"Oh what a pity, this would be his last year then," James said, looking slightly disappointed that he'd only get to see this seeker for one year.

"No, actually he's some Quidditch prodigy; he was the first first-year in a century to have gotten on the Quidditch team. They made a whole bunch of exceptions for him," Remus said.

"How do you know all this, Moony?" Sirius asked. Remus raised an eyebrow.

"I read the newspaper."

"Why would he be in the newspaper?" James asked. Remus rolled his eyes.

"Don't tell me you two have honestly never heard of this kid. He's a child prodigy; he's in the newspaper every other day!"

"I try to avoid 'The Prophet' whenever I can. It just lies," James said. Sirius nodded in agreement.

"Well this kid is incredible. He's Lily's son, you remember, Harry Evans. He beat Voldemort in his first and second year here. He captured Peter when he escaped from Azkaban in his third year. He was in the TriWizard Tournament when he was fourteen—which is against the rules, but oh well—and he was that kid that caused such a riot when he broke into the ministry last year to fight Voldemort himself. I can't believe that you two, some of the best Aurors in the business, have never heard of Harry Evans," Remus explained to them.

"Oh, I remember hearing about him now. Must have blocked it out of my memory," James said.

"Why?" Sirius asked. James just gave him a look. "Oh. Right. Lily."

For the rest of the train ride, the three marauders were decidedly silent.

Harry ran down the corridors of the train; he could see Ron and Hermione just up ahead. Harry had gotten stuck in the massive crowd, but Ron and Hermione had kept going. They had obviously not yet realized Harry's absence.

"Ron, Hermione, wait up!" he called, then, since he was looking at Hermione and Ron rather than where he was going, he ran into a very tall person, a man who was too old to be a student. "Oh, sorry sir," he said as the familiar man gave him a second look. Harry, a little freaked out by the sense of familiarity, ran right past him and the other two men he was with and caught up with Ron and Hermione. He thought against telling them about the strange man and instead had a normal ride to Hogwarts.

A/N: Please review.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two 

Harry, Ron and Hermione chattered all the way up until they were in their seats in the Great Hall and ready to begin the sorting. Harry couldn't help but to keep talking; it kept his mind off the previous year and the fact that Andromeda Tonks had died because of him. He really didn't like to think about that as it only caused a great pain in his soul that such a good friend was killed because of his own faults. Harry then got lost in his guilt and was abnormally silent. Ron and Hermione bickered with each other for a moment to decide whether to say anything to him or not, but right then the first years walked in and everyone went silent, making Harry's lack of speech quite normal. Professor McGonagall walked up briskly and as was tradition and had been for centuries she placed the hat upon the stool and it began to sing:

"Oh Hogwarts, Hogwarts is a mighty school

Built upon bricks of gray and magic tool

But in us lies one weakness

That could devastate us all

It is prejudice that divides us

And it is great, not small.

For you see for a thousand years

I've been placed upon your head,

And every time you come to me

That divide I begin to dread.

It is the founders that separated

But it is not they who will set us free

Though it is they who placed you in your house

Those who must overcome it are we.

So it is time to take some action

Against this terrible divide

It is time to bring us back together

Yes, it is time to coincide."

Everyone clapped politely, but again this year it was more out of obligation than anything; the song was shorter this year but it had the same warning of house division. Or, perhaps it meant something else this year that they just weren't catching. Harry, who was snapped out of his trance by the song, clapped along with the others and then noticed that Ginny was sitting beside him.

"Warnings again? That can't be a good sign. Obviously we didn't do a good job 'uniting' last year, or else he would have dropped the topic," Ginny whispered. Harry nodded solemnly; this change in mood was becoming quite disturbing. At this moment Dumbledore chose to stand and give his speech.

"Welcome back Hogwarts students, and just welcome to our new first year students. We are looking forward to another year at this grand school and are excited to learn more and more about our students and magic. This year Mr. Filch, our caretaker, has asked me to remind you of a number of banned objects from the school grounds, however I fear that if I stood here and listed every item from Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes I would be here for quite some time, so I suggest you look at the list posted on Mr. Filch's door instead. I believe there are over 500 items, so I suggest you use a free period to look at them.

"As to our new teachers this year we have three new professors; first we have Remus Lupin to head up our Care of the Magical Creatures department. Hagrid will still assist Professor Lupin in the classes, you all needn't worry."

At this new teacher Harry felt relieved; he loved Hagrid to death, but he was simply not Care of the Magical Creature Professor material. He simply was too fond of dangerous and illegal creatures. Harry—and probably most of Hogwarts—hoped desperately that this new teacher would not share his insane love.

"Our second teacher," Dumbledore began again, "is Mr. Potter here to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts for us." Dumbledore gestured to the second man who was standing and suddenly Harry felt as if he were staring into a mirror of his future self. The man had messy black hair and large glasses, though he lacked a scar and emerald eyes.

"Gin, Ginny do you see that Professor?" Harry asked to make sure he wasn't just seeing things. Ginny had her eyebrows raised.

"Yeah I see him," Ginny said and then she frowned. "I think I've seen him before too; he was one of the Aurors that came in with Fudge at the end of the last year. He left with that other guy over there--," at this Ginny pointed to the man beside him who also had black hair, "—to go round up the Death Eaters." Harry squinted at them hard.

"Yeah, you're right, Gin. No wonder he's the Defense teacher then; but Ginny, did you see how he looks? I mean…does he look like anyone you know?" Harry asked anxiously.

"He looks exactly like Ron," Ginny teased, and then she went serious. "No, actually he looks…exactly like you Harry." Harry nodded, looking at the man and feeling more than slightly unnerved.

"You're right. He does," Harry said. What if that man was his father? Was that even possible? Harry didn't dare voice his suspicions aloud; the subject had been taken with his mother to her grave, and for all Harry was concerned it was better off there anyway. Ginny saw the look of distress on Harry's face and became dismayed. Harry had lived such a hard life, what with the Dursleys treating him like they did and Voldemort always hunting after him. He desperately deserved a family, but Ginny feared it would only complicate things if he found his long-lost (but hopefully long dead) Father. However, as she looked into the face of her long-time friend and crush and then into that of her new teacher, she knew it wasn't possible for his Father to be dead.

As James Potter stood at Dumbledore's recognition he looked out into the sea of students. It was such a different perspective from the high table than it was from the Great Hall's house tables. James had only been up at the high table once, and that was a time he would not soon forget.

_"James!" giggled a pretty redhead to James' side. He turned to see Lily Evans, in his opinion the most beautiful girl on Earth, waving to him. They had been going out for a few weeks now, and James couldn't remember a time when he had been so happy. _

"_Happy Christmas, James." Lily said. James smiled at her._

"_Happy Christmas, Lily," James replied. The two just kept grinning at each other until they both blushed and looked away. Finally Lily cleared her throat a bit._

"_Come on, its time for the feast!" Lily said and grabbed James' hand._

"_Feast?" James asked, oblivious._

"_Yes, the one they have at Christmas here every year," Lily replied, being patient with him. She knew that he had always gone home for the Holidays, but this year the uprising Lord Voldemort had killed his parents and he had nowhere to go._

"_Oh, ok," James replied and followed her into the highly decorated Great Hall. The Hall was lit with a thousand fairies and pine trees with tinsel on them sprouted up all over the room. All the tables in the room were gone, save one, the high table. Lily led him up there and then they both realized that no one else was there yet._

"_I guess we should just take a seat anyway," Lily said, sitting down and looking out at the beautiful decorations. James joined her and the two just sat there contentedly, watching the fairies play. Then, without warning the two looked at each other at the exact same moment and then they both leaned in and kissed._

Yes, that had been his first kiss with Lily, right by that very table in that very room. James missed her like he would miss his soul, though he admitted that he had brought it all on himself.

The clapping for him died down and jerked James out of his thoughts. He sat down and looked out into the crowd of people again and scanned the Gryffindor table. To his surprise he saw his look alike again, this time sitting with and talking to a redheaded girl. James shook his head. '_That is just too odd,'_ James thought. Dumbledore continued to speak, introducing Sirius next as his assistant. Then Dumbledore spoke again, just when James thought he was done.

"Also, any rules set by Professor Umbridge have been considered null and void. The underground society of 'Dumbledore's Army' I believe they call themselves is also going to be led again this year by Harry James Evans. Well go on Harry, stand up," Dumbledore said cheerfully. James looked around, eager to see this star Quidditch prodigy, even if he was Lily's son with someone else. James nearly fell out of his chair when reluctantly the boy from the Gryffindor table that looked just like him stood up. A deafening roar was issued from the students, his obviously adoring fans.

Sirius was looking from James to Harry and back again. There was something up here. Never before had he seen such a resemblance to his best friend. Then there was the fact that the boy was Lily's son and without the last name of his Father unless for some strange reason also had the last name of 'Evans' which Sirius highly doubted. Sirius now had some sneaking suspicions that James was the boy's Father, but James wasn't like that. If he had had a son he would have told Remus and Sirius. He also would have taken responsibility for the boy and raised him and given him his last name. Sirius shook his head. Of course the boy couldn't be James' son because James simply wouldn't abandon him.

Once James' heart rate went back to normal he was capable of watching the boy sit back down as the cheers carried on. It was quite obvious that he was used to this kind of thing. James found these thoughts much more pleasant than one that was daring to nag at the back of his mind. This thought he refused to touch; in fact he shied from it like it was some repulsive, slug-like animal. Then as he thought about this thought, he realized that it wasn't possible. No, no Dumbledore would have told him long before now. With that thought to comfort him he returned to his normal, not panicked self and clapped with the rest when Dumbledore's speech was finished and the feast began.

'_No, there's no way_,' thought father and son at the same time, and with that thought they began to eat.

Harry Evans sat at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall the next morning, very surprisingly the first one up. He had had another nightmare and could not sleep, so at four in the morning he arrived in the Great Hall for breakfast. The house elves, always prepared for anything, had gotten him waffles and pumpkin juice along with some bacon for breakfast. Harry was enjoying his quiet meal when suddenly he sensed that someone was behind him. He also heard them walk in. Harry stayed fairly still, and obviously the person realized the cause of their freeze.

"What are you doing up?" said the sleepy voice from behind him. Harry turned to see Professor Potter standing a few feet behind him.

"I couldn't sleep, sir," Harry replied honestly.

"Why not?" his teacher asked.

"I uh had too much sugar last night at dessert, sir," Harry lied quickly. His Professor raised an eyebrow but indicated in no other way that he knew Harry was lying.

"I see. Well then, you better still be awake today for your classes," Professor Potter replied. Harry groaned softly. He'd forgotten that his energy would be thoroughly depleted half way through the day, and with his luck he would probably have potions. "What is it?" the Professor asked.

"Sir, do you have my times-table by any chance?" Harry asked abruptly. The Professor blinked for a moment and then he nodded.

"Actually yes. Professor McGonagall wished for me to deliver the times-tables for her," he replied and handed Harry his times-table. Harry looked at it, and if his Professor hadn't been standing right there he probably would have begun to bang his head on his desk. Potions was glaring up at him from the first slot on Monday. As it was Harry groaned quite loudly. "What is it now?" asked the confused Professor.

"Just what I thought…it's nothing really. I just have potions first today. It's not exactly my favorite class, sir," Harry said, and that was definitely an understatement.

"Oh, well, who's the Professor?" Professor Potter asked Harry. Harry would have gaped at him if he weren't his teacher.

"You don't know? I find that difficult to believe. Professor Snape teaches potions," Harry said, but before Professor Potter could answer another new Professor was by his side. It was the other one with black hair and dark eyes, Professor Black.

"SNIVELLY? _SNIVELLY_ teaches potions?" Professor Black exclaimed, looking as if Christmas had come early. Professor Potter looked the same way, then looked back to his student and nudged Professor Black. "I mean uh, it will be nice to see Professor Snape again." Professor Black covered carelessly. Harry then thought of something.

"Excuse me if I'm being rude but, do your first names happen to be James and Sirius?" Harry asked. Harry had always been berated by the mean old potions teacher for looking like a boy he knew in school, James Potter. He also remembered he had always come with an accomplice, Sirius Black as well as two others named Remus and Peter. The two Professors looked mildly surprised.

"Yeah, why?" said Sirius. Harry considered telling them why, but just then a wave of students and staff came in and Sirius and James abandoned their conversation for breakfast. Harry, who had already finished his, got up and left the Great Hall to go find Ron, who was most likely still sleeping soundly in the boy's dormitories.

James sat at the high table, considering the young man with whom he'd previously conversed. The boy was a liar, obviously, and a bad liar at that, but James didn't think it was lying to get himself out of trouble, but lying to keep people from thinking he had any problems at all. James had known a girl once who supported everyone else whenever they were emotional and was a great help to everyone. She was so incredibly self-sacrificial that she would lie that she had been crying, would deny her anger, and would never snap at anyone. That had been Lily of course. She had been so giving that in the end she gave her own life for her son's. Yes, this boy was much like his mother.

What of his Father? James wondered. Was the boy at all like the man who had fathered him, or was he only like Lily? James knew that Lily wouldn't go and get herself drunk and do something that would land her with a child; Lily was smarter than that. So who _was_ the boy's father? She hadn't had much time after they broke up to get another boyfriend. It was a question that James knew would plague him until he discovered the answer.

"James? James?" Professor Dumbledore was standing next to James' chair.

"Huh, what?" James looked around stupidly. Professor Dumbledore just smiled gently.

"I was wondering if you would see me in my office this evening; perhaps at five?" the Headmaster inquired.

"Sure, sure," said James, snapping out of his daze. The Headmaster nodded to him and then went to his seat. What could the Headmaster want with him on the first day of school? James didn't know, but he supposed he would find out at five that evening.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three 

It was five minutes before the class period started that Ron Weasley and Harry Evans stumbled into Potions class. It had taken Harry exceedingly long to wake up Ron, and when he had succeeded it took Ron incredibly long to get ready and then have breakfast (Harry supposed this may have had something to do with Ron constantly staring at Hermione over breakfast). They came in and took their seats not a moment too soon. A few seconds later the doors banged open and Professor Snape waltzed through—with neon pink hair. Harry nearly bit his tongue off to keep from laughing. Every last student in the room looked very tempted to burst out in laughter and were probably breaking their ribs in an attempt to hold it in. Seamus, unfortunately for him, failed in his attempts to hide his laughter. Snape whirled around with a venom Harry had only seen once before.

"You think this is FUNNY, do you Finnigan? You think this is AMUSING?" Snape snarled. "Then perhaps you would like to join the TROUBLEMAKER who did this in a month's long DETENTION!" Though everyone was silent, they were all still laughing inside. Harry knew that Snape was lying, however. For one, any student that did that to him would be expelled or at least suspended, not just getting detention. For two, on the way down to the potion's classroom Harry had noticed Dumbledore gently berating a particularly gleeful Professor Black.

The class went on with no one saying anything because they were laughing too hard inside that they feared if they opened their mouths they might just burst into laughter. Snape whipped up a potion on the spot that quickly dissolved the pink back into black, much to Harry's great disappointment. When the class let out and was free from the dungeons, Harry and Ron collapsed on the ground in tears of laughter while Hermione settled on laughing on her feet in a much more dignified fashion.

"Blimey, did you see the look on Snape's face?" Ron said through his laughing fits.

"Professor Black did it; I know he did. I saw Dumbledore talking to him and he looked absolutely elated. Black I mean, not Dumbledore," Harry said.

"Points for the assistant teacher!" Ron laughed. Once the three had gained control of themselves they headed to their next class—Defense Against the Dark Arts.

Harry was a little skeptical of this class at first. After all, who had ever heard of anything as absurd as an assistant professor? Harry supposed he should trust Dumbledore's judgment, but he still felt that the idea was a little strange. Harry took a seat near the front of the class despite his feelings about an assistant teacher. Surprising to Harry, only Professor Potter walked through the door at the start of class.

"Good morning class!" Professor Potter said cheerfully before he took roll. Harry could only guess why he was so joyous. Obviously Snape bating was an old, enjoyable pastime. "Alright, since it's the first day of school, no homework. Let's do something fun today like—," Professor Potter began, but at that moment Professor Black came in through the back of the class.

"Like dueling!" he finished for him.

"Sure, like dueling. We need to assess how well you're doing in the class so we can see if you need to be in my class, or in Professor Black's class," Professor Potter said. Seamus raised his hand.

"Wait a minute, I thought Professor Black was just here to help out?" Seamus asked. Professor Potter shook his head.

"Not exactly. Due to recent events, the Headmaster wanted to make sure that students are receiving the best Defense Against the Dark Arts training. On days of double Defense Against the Dark Arts during the first half of class we will have normal class, then we will split off into two groups for the second half. Professor Black will teach most of you as well as those of you that struggle in this area while I will teach a select few of you more advanced studies. So! Do your very best in this dueling tournament—this and your past grades in the class will determine your placement for the next year," Professor Potter concluded.

The class gave an audible gulp—they all remembered the last time they had had to duel, and it definitely had not been pretty. Harry especially remembered the incident, and he wasn't too keen on repeating it. As it was, they still had to do as they were told, and so the first few people dueled. Professor Potter and Professor Black had all separated them out by grades and OWL scores. Those who had lower scores went first and had their own mini-tournament, and then the next lowest, then the next highest and so on and so forth. Harry was getting anxious when Hermione went and they hadn't called his name yet. Had they just forgotten him? When that tournament was over with, he realized almost everyone had gone but himself—in fact everyone had gone but him and Draco.

"Last we have a single duel for the two top students in this class—Draco Malfoy and Harry Evans!" Professor Black said in his best rendition of an announcer. The crowd cheered; they knew this would be a fight to remember. The Gryffindor fans, most of the crowd, immediately began to chant, "EVANS! EVANS! EVANS!" stomping twice in between each shout of 'EVANS!'. Harry felt his stomach drop—he hated pressure. Harry and Draco stepped onto the 'stage' meant for dueling.

"Ready to forfeit, Evans?" Malfoy said.

"You wish," replied Harry and on three they dueled. It was a good duel in which Harry did a very nice pirouette and Malfoy tap-danced like there was no tomorrow. It ended when finally Harry shouted, "Expelliarmus!". The spell hit Malfoy straight on, and he went flying backwards with his wand tossed out of his hand. Professor Black declared the match over and Harry the winner.

"So Evans, how does it feel to be the best Defense Against the Dark Arts student in your class and most likely your year?" Professor Black asked with a transfigured microphone in his most Rita Skeeter-like voice. Embarrassed, Harry just ignored the question. The crowd then came over and cheered his name over and over again. He hated all of the attention, and Professor Potter was quick to notice it.

"Alright, alright. Enough of that," Professor Potter said, and with a wave of his wand the stage was gone and the desks of the classroom had reappeared. "Sit down everyone." Right then however, the bell rang and everyone left the classroom. "Right then, never mind. Class is dismissed." With that the whole class left, except for Harry, who rummaged in his bag for his times table.

"On to divination then?" Ron asked Harry. Harry shook his head.

"Nah, I didn't pass. I guess I'll get a free period," Harry said and then he finally looked over to that period. To Harry's surprise, he found no free period there. _Defense Against the Dark Arts 7_ was what read in that slot. Harry shook his head. "There must be a mistake," he said.

"What mistake?" Ron asked, leaning over to look at the parchment.

"Is there a problem, Mr. Evans?" asked Professor Potter.

"Yeah," Harry said, handing him the times table. "I'm not a seventh year." Professor Potter looked at the times table and frowned.

"I've never heard of there being a scheduling mistake before," Professor Potter said. He then turned to a portrait in the room. "Phineas, would you be so kind as to fetch the Headmaster for me? I think we've a problem. Harry, for now just go with it and take a seat." Harry nodded and sat down while Ron shrugged and left. Shortly the seventh years began to arrive, and they all gave him strange looks.

"What are you doing in here, Evans? This is seventh year Defense." Asked a Ravenclaw he vaguely recognized as being named Clint.

"Ask whoever does the times table. _Defense Against the Dark Arts 7_ was on my times table in this slot," Harry said.

"Impossible! You aren't a seventh year!" Clint scoffed.

"You are correct Clint, he is not yet seventeen," said Professor Dumbledore from the doorway to the room. "However, we have made an exception for Mr. Evans as we feel he is not only capable of doing very well in this class, but with the uprising threat of Lord Voldemort we feel it is necessary to put him in this higher class."

Clint just gawked and Harry looked puzzled.

"Then what will I do next year, Professor?" Harry asked. Dumbledore just smiled.

"Ah, we will discuss that as time gets closer to next year. As it is for now, just be in this class and do not question it. Also, if you looked ahead in your times table which I doubt you did, you would notice that in place of History of Magic I took the liberty of putting you in a private study for Defense Against the Dark Arts with Professor Potter," Dumbledore said, and then without allowing Harry to protest or ask questions he simply left. Harry banged his head on the table as the bell rang. 'Great. Just great.'

James Potter was not surprised by many things. Being an auror who typically hunted down the most dangerous of Voldemort's followers had scorched any gene that might allow him to be surprised. In fact, the only other time James could remember being surprised was when he discovered that Lily had had a son that defeated the most evil of beings on the planet. That Harry Evans was in three of his classes, one being a class that was solely Harry, surprised him. He added Harry into the top duel for the seventh years to see how he would fair—surprisingly he beat the top seventh year he had. James was stunned by the boy's incredible ability.

James made his way up to the headmaster's office, wondering what on earth he could want to talk to him about. He went up the spiral staircase and knocked on the door.

"Ah James, please do come in," Professor Dumbledore said. James opened the door and took a seat on one of the large leather chairs in front of the Headmaster's desk that he was so familiar with.

"What did you need to speak with me about, Professor?" James said. The headmaster studied him for a moment.

"Please call me Albus now, James. I assumed you would be curious as to the placement of your student, Harry Evans," Dumbledore stated. James shrugged.

"I'm a little curious I suppose, but the boy's incredible power really explains it all, I think," James said. The boy's magical power emanated in gigantic waves not seen since Merlin himself James would think.

"Yes, the boy is a virtual magical powerhouse. However, that is not the only reason I gave him not one, not two but three defense classes. There is something I have shown only three living souls before—myself, Harry Evans and his mother, Lily Evans. It is something only six living people even know about, and three of those six don't even know the entire thing. Yet, to help you comprehend the importance of this situation and why you will be teaching a sixteen-year-old dark arts—yes, you will be teaching him dark arts in your private lessons with him—I will show this sacred Prophecy to you," professor Dumbledore said, walking over to his Pensieve and poking it with his wand. In the mist James recognized the Divination teacher, Sibyll Trelawaney. She spoke in a terribly harsh voice as she said:

"_THE ONE WITH THE POWER TO VANQUISH THE DARK LORED APPROACHES…BORN TO THOSE WHO HAVE THRICE DEFIED HIM, BORN AS THE SEVENTH MONTH DIES…AND THE DARK LORD WILL MARK HIM AS HIS EQUAL, BUT HE WILL HAVE POWER THE DARK LORD KNOWS NO…AND EITHER MUST DIE AT THE HANDS OF THE OTHER FOR NEITHER CAN LIVE WHILE THE OTHER SURRVIVES…THE ONE WITH THE POWER TO VANQUISH THE DARK LORD WILL BE BORN AS THE SEVENTH MONTH DIES…"_

James sat back and blinked. The poor boy was doomed to be murdered or a murderer. He was condemned to face things that only Dumbledore had faced in his fight against Grindewald. Then that annoying part of his brain piped up again. 'Born to those who have thrice defied him…how many people did you know that had defied him three times? Frank, Alice, Lily…and you. Certainly Frank didn't father that boy…' it said. James shook it off—that was impossible, so he wouldn't even think of it. The nagging voice wanted to say more, but at that moment James realized the Professor was studying him intently.

"So, you see James, that is why you must teach him. Harry is our only hope," Professor Dumbledore said. James nodded numbly. He couldn't even imagine being sixteen and knowing you would kill or be killed at a very early age. What stunned him more was that Harry was a very good kid despite it all. Dumbledore was staring at James again. "Did you have something on your mind James? Something you wanted to ask me about?" James did have something on his mind, something he wanted to ask the Headmaster about. Yet he shook his head no. Dumbledore sighed. "Very well then. Off with you." James turned and put his hand on the doorknob. "Oh and James? Make the most of your lessons with Harry. Get to know him. You may be pleasantly surprised by what you find," Dumbledore said. Puzzled, James left the room. Why hadn't he asked Dumbledore? The old man was very kind, he surely would have given him an answer. So why did he chicken out like that? He was a Gryffindor! 'It's because you're afraid of the answer...' said that nasty little voice. James was beginning to hate the logical side of his mind more and more every day.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four 

Harry wasn't sure if he was lucky or unlucky to have three defense classes on his schedule. He'd found that both of the Professors were pretty cool, so that made the classes fun. He'd also be getting a lot of extra studying for it so he could use it to defeat Voldemort when the time came; but Harry was already feeling uncomfortable in being so singled out. He was the first student to ever move up a grade in just one class, and the first ever to have three classes of the same subject. People were already beginning to look at him in the hall—though they did this often, it didn't make him any less uncomfortable, and the seventh years were especially staring at him since he had beaten their best duelist in a duel. Harry decided that this made him _unlucky_ to have three defense classes.

On the other hand, no matter how badly he felt he knew it would help him out in the end. He supposed this all must be necessary in some form or another. Harry sighed. Regardless, it still meant extra homework. Harry sat down in the defense classroom for the third time that day (Or rather the second, seeing as sixth and seventh year defense were back to back) and took out his books.

After a few minutes, to Harry's surprise, people started pouring in, one of them being Ginny.

"Harry?" Ginny asked in bewilderment. "What are you doing here?"

"I was about to ask you the same question," Harry replied. He had thought that this was supposed to be a period of private study with Professor Potter, not a class with the fifth years!

"This is the fifth year Defense Against the Dark Arts class for the Gryffindors and Slytherins. Again, what are YOU doing here? You've even been bumped up to seventh year Defense, so I highly doubt that you belong in this class," Ginny said with her eyebrows raised.

"Right, well," Harry began to say, but at that moment Professor Potter and Professor Black came into the room and Ginny had to take a seat next to Harry.

"Welcome class, to fifth year defense. Since you've all made it thus far I will assume you are all capable of keeping up with the normal class and will not need any extra, in-class help. Professor Black will be your sole teacher this year for this period as it is my duty this period to teach our talented young Harry Potter more advanced Defense studies. So, without further ado, take it away Professor Black," Professor Potter said. Ginny just looked at Harry and mouthed to him "Oh" as Professor Potter came near him.

"Are you ready, Mr. Evans?" Professor Potter asked.

"Yeah," said Harry, and he got up to leave with his new professor.

The two didn't talk the entire walk to whatever empty classroom they were headed. It was silent and awkward as they both shot quick glances at each other and then looked away quickly when they realized that the other was looking right back. Things were so…uncomfortable.

"So," said Professor Potter when they were finally nearing the classroom, "you're Harry Evans. The-Boy-Who-Lived if you don't mind my saying so."

"Actually I do mind," Harry said shortly. He had his reasons for not liking the name—a whole boatload of them—but he didn't need to explain them to his teacher.

"Oh. Right, well, that's fine. It is because of this, however, that I have to give you these lessons," Professor Potter said.

"I know that," said Harry in boredom. Why couldn't they all just walk off a cliff and leave him alone with his friends? There was a REASON he hadn't signed up for another class after he dropped Divination. They finally reached the room in even more uncomfortable silence with Harry annoyed and James—was he nervous?

"Ok, so I suppose we should start the lesson," James said.

"Yeah," Harry said, taking out his book and his wand. The lesson was very strained with both participants wishing for nothing more than to leave the room—but why? James couldn't understand why he felt so tense, after all Harry was just another student. Just another student who happened to look a little bit like him. He was just another student who happened to be Lily's son. Just another student who must be a half-blood, because there was no other explanation for—James stopped his train of thought right there. It wasn't possible, was it? James was desperately clinging to that hope. Harry just couldn't be his…his…James couldn't even think it. As he sat there, teaching this incredibly bright student, however, he couldn't stand it anymore. He had to ask Dumbledore—no chickening out this time, he was a Gryffindor gosh darn it! He would summon up all his courage and strength to ask Dumbledore a seemingly simple question—and he would do it today.

James felt his stomach dropping as he went up the spiral stairs to the Headmaster's office and knocked on the old wooden door. He felt like he was thirteen again and about to get in trouble for blowing up a toilet in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom for the tenth time. Only this time Filch wasn't leading him to his doom—no, this time he was leading himself down the path to destruction.

"Come in," said the headmaster's voice from inside the office when James knocked. Slowly and timidly James cracked open the door and walked into the old office. "Ah, James, what a pleasant surprise. Have a seat. Would you like a lemon drop?" the Professor asked, holding out a bowl filled with small, yellow candies. James took the seat but politely refused the lemon drops.

"Professor, may I speak with you about something personal?" James asked nervously. Dumbledore's eyes just twinkled like always.

"Of course, my boy. You may always ask me any question—the true question is whether or not I will answer you," he replied. James nodded.

"Fair enough. Professor, I've been thinking and I've found some strikingly similarities between Harry Evans and myself. I was wondering…Professor…who exactly is--," James began, but Dumbledore finished his sentence for him.

"The boy's father? I figured you would ask me that question one day. James, I have something for you here that I've had for about fifteen years. I suppose it is about time that I revealed it to you," he said, and out of one of his drawers he pulled an old, parchment envelope. He handed the letter to him. "It was from Lily, to you. You may read it."

James looked at the letter, then Dumbledore, then back at the letter again. His memories of Lily were now often more painful than happy, and he was reluctant to relive all of that pain. Nonetheless, he had to do something when Dumbledore was staring at him like that, and so he opened the envelope, took out the letter, and read:

Dear James,

By the time you read this, I will be gone. It's an interesting concept, writing something to be read after your death. I don't know if you want to read this letter from me or not, seeing as I am a muggle born, but if you have read this far I can only hope you'll find your old self again and continue to read this letter.

I loved you, James, and it broke my heart when you left me. I couldn't deal with that pain, and so I did the only thing I knew how to do to deal with pain—I ran from it. I wanted to disappear from your life, from my friends' lives, from my own memories. Unfortunately, I discovered your past will come back to haunt you; three days after I ran away from everything I discovered I was pregnant. Of course, I wasn't pregnant with just anyone's baby, no; I was pregnant with your baby. I wasn't sure if this was a great blessing or a terrible curse, but no matter, I still ran. How could I tell you that the woman you hate was going to have your baby? I just couldn't—I was scared.

So, I had the baby, and only a year later did I discover that I couldn't run from the magical society either. Our baby and Alice and Frank's baby, Neville, were the only two possible children that a Prophecy was talking about. My baby might be the only one capable of defeating the most terrible Dark Wizard of all time. I had to go into hiding to protect him, and me, and so I am writing this to you now for fear that I will die not long after this spell goes into effect.

Regardless, it was wrong of me never to tell you about my baby, and I feel guilty about that. I hope that one day you can get past your family prejudices and get to know and love my baby, our baby. Like it or not James Potter, my baby, Harry Evans, is your son.

Love,

Lily Evans

James dropped the letter.

Harry packed up his bag, getting ready to exit from his lesson with Professor Potter. He had been glad when the Professor had rushed away at the end of the lesson, mumbling something about an urgent meeting with the headmaster he had to attend. Whatever, it gave Harry an excuse not to have to talk to him anymore. Suddenly Ginny appeared at the entrance to the room.

"Oh, hi Ginny, how'd you know I was down here?" Harry asked, looking up in surprise.

"I asked Professor Black where you were having your lesson, and he told me down here. So, how WAS your lesson?" Ginny asked. Harry sighed.

"Not well. I don't really get it, Professor Potter is really likable and all, and he seems really cool, but for some reason…I don't know, I just get a little uncomfortable around him," Harry said with a weak shrug.

"I see," Ginny said. There was a silence between them, and then Harry blurted out, though he wasn't sure why,

"Hey Ginny, would you like to take a walk outside with me?" Ginny smiled brightly.

"I'd love to," she said.

It wasn't true. It couldn't be true. How could it be true? James Potter collapsed onto his bed in his office. This wasn't happening. Oh, all the pain was flooding back. All the pain that he had caused Lily, caused him, and now so obviously caused Harry was drowning him. Memories of Lily, both sweet and sour, were wrapping him in a terrible vice and crushing him. Why did he have to be his son?

James would not have minded being the boy's father under different circumstances. If he hadn't hurt Lily so badly he would have loved to learn that Harry was his son, but how could he now, knowing the pain he had caused Lily? Dumbledore had tried to help by telling him that it was a grave misunderstanding, he made a few mistakes in the past and that was all. James knew, however, that he had made the biggest mistake of his life when he hurt Lily like he did, and now, especially now, he could never forgive himself.

"James? Are you in there?" asked Sirius as he knocked on James' door. "Why didn't you come down for dinner? What's going on?" James inwardly groaned. He couldn't explain things to Padfoot, not now and maybe not ever. Sirius was so angry when he did what he did to Lily. James vividly remembered when he found out; Sirius has yelled at him about how weak James was to give in and then he gave him a bloody nose and a black eye. James had vowed to never do anything to upset Padfoot ever, _ever_ again. Knowing that Harry was James' son would probably upset Padfoot, and James was not in the mood for getting a bloody nose and a black eye at the moment.

"Nothing, I just wasn't hungry. I'm not…feeling well. I'll go down to get something from the house elves later," James said, turning over on his bed.

"Whatever you say, Prongs," Sirius said in confusion. James never missed a meal, not ever. When James heard Sirius' footsteps die away he got up to go to the kitchens. He might as well have something to eat before bed, even if he wasn't completely sure if he could stomach it. With that James got up and headed to the kitchen.

Harry and Ginny had a wonderful walk around the grounds. They had discussed everything from N.E.W.T.S and O.W.L.S to Ron and Hermione's obviously impending relationship. Harry felt so at ease with her, like he could tell her about anything, even the Prophecy. They had been out so long that they had unfortunately missed Dinner.

"Well, if you're getting hungry I know how to get into the kitchens," Harry said.

"I am getting a little hungry," Ginny admitted. So, the two headed down to the portrait of fruit. Harry tickled the pear and once they were inside house elves, particularly Dobby, bombarded them with food. The two laughed and enjoyed their custom dinner.

"So, Ginny, I was wondering, there's a Hogsmeade trip coming up in a couple of weeks, and I was wondering if maybe you'd go with me?" Harry said, but this time he knew what possessed him to ask Ginny—he'd had a really good time talking with her, and if Hermione and Ron went together he wanted to give them some privacy. Ginny beamed.

"I'd really loved to Harry," Ginny said. Harry grinned, leaned over and kissed her. It was at that moment that Professor Potter walked in.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five 

James nearly had a heart attack when he walked into the Hogwarts kitchens to get dinner for himself. It wasn't everyday he walked in on people kissing, and it _definitely_ wasn't everyday that he walked in on a redhead and his own son making-out in the Hogwarts kitchens. James staggered backward when he saw the sight. Oh, the memories the scene brought back—memories that James wasn't ready to deal with, memories that he had run from for sixteen years; memories that he was being forced to relive with the realization that he had a son. Harry and Ginny were so wrapped up in one another, however, that it took a timid house elf tugging on the hem of Harry's robe for him to turn around and notice. Harry turned around and blanched.

"Oh erm, Professor, we erm, were just erm," Harry stuttered, then gained some control of himself, "Ginny uh had some dirt on her nose and I was just going to wipe it off." Harry finished lamely. If James hadn't been so shocked by the wave of memories that had attacked him when he walked into the kitchen, maybe he could have thought of something witty. Maybe he could have done something more than just stand there in utter shock while Harry asked if he was feeling all right. The fact of the matter was, he couldn't because he was so shocked by the wave of memories. Yes, all of those terrible yet wonderful memories…

Flashback

James sat on the couch in the living room to his flat, cuddling with and watching the fire with Lily. He really couldn't be happier than he was at that moment.

"I love you, James. You love me right?" Lily asked, though the question wasn't serious, and James knew it. He smiled down at her.

"Of course I love you, Lily," James replied, giving her a kiss on the top of her head. Lily snuggled up against him more.

"Good. So one day we'll get married and have children. I want three, unless you have objections," Lily said with a contented sigh, but James' body tensed. Lily felt it and looked up at him questioningly. "You do want children, don't you?" James sighed.

"No."

"No?"

"No, I mean no that's not what I…never mind," James mumbled. Lily looked indignant now and stopped cuddling him.

"What is it? Do you want children or not? What's wrong James?" Lily asked. James ran a hand through his messy hair.

"It's not that I don't want children, Lily, it's just that…" James trailed off.

"It's just that what, James Potter?"

"It's just that, well, my parents…they, they love you Lily but…" James stopped. He shouldn't go there. Why had he even brought the topic up?

"But what?" Lily exclaimed, looking offended now.

"Well, they…they don't want…they don't want me to marry you, Lily. They…want me to find, you know. A Pureblood witch to continue the line with and--," James began, but he was cut short right there.

"James Potter, are you seriously considering believing in those terrible pureblood prejudices? I can't believe you! That's all just like…like, I don't even know what! Horse breeding or something! Whichever horse has the purest line is the best of the breed or whatever. You want to be a horse, James?" Lily asked, enraged.

"No, I…this isn't coming out right, Lily. I still want to marry you Lily, but I have to…marry someone else first I guess, and have kids, and then I could get a divorce and then--," James began, thinking rapidly. Why had he brought this up? Why had he given in to his parents? Lily was in tears now.

"You can't do that James! I'm a living, breathing person, and that wife and those children would be too! Why can't you just marry me and have children with _me?_ Wouldn't my children be just as good as some pureblood's?" she asked anxiously. How could this be happening to her? James had always been so good to her—why was he turning on her now?

"Lily, it's just that, you know how my parents are. They don't want the blood being mixed and such…it's a matter of--," James started. Nothing was coming out right.

"Prejudice!" Lily sobbed. "The prejudice against muggleborns your parents and now you harbor! I thought you'd changed James! You promised me you had. Why couldn't you just tell me that before we started dating? Was it lust? In that case you got out of me what you wanted you jerk, you snake! You're no better than—no, you're worse than Severus Snape and the rest of those Slytherins! How could you James Potter?" Lily ran from the room in tears and apparated with a pop before James could even say, "wait". That was the last time James ever saw Lily Evans, or ever even heard a word about her again, save the day she died. Of course, also save now. It was later that day that Sirius found out about what he had said to Lily and had thoroughly beaten him up. James learned quickly that you simply didn't mess with one of Sirius' friends. Lupin, surprisingly, had also gone on a rant to him—James suspected he had had a crush on Lily in their seventh year, and his suspicions were confirmed in Remus' rant. Dumbledore, too, was disappointed in James. Yet, it didn't take all of their chastising for James to figure out that he had just made the biggest mistake of his life.

End Flashback

"Professor? Professor? Should I go and get Madam Pomfrey?" Harry was standing over James, looking concerned. It occurred to James that he had slumped against the wall and was sitting down, looking dazed.

"What? Oh, no Mr. Potter, I'll be fine…I'm afraid I haven't been feeling very well today," James said, then he left abruptly regarding the look of confusion on Harry's face to his teacher acting so oddly. When Professor Potter left Harry turned to Ginny.

"Did you…did you hear what he said?" Harry said in bewilderment. Ginny shifted uncomfortably.

"Well, yes," Ginny said. With comprehension dawning Harry gave her a curt nod and then left as abruptly as his teacher—he had a bone to pick with the Headmaster.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6 

Harry wasn't completely sure what he was going to say once he reached the Headmaster's office. He could, after all, be jumping to conclusions, even though he didn't think that was very likely. He thought he might start out calmly, then if he was right he could go on a tangent, but if he was right…If he was right, would he even feel well enough to go on a tangent? Harry's head was spinning. He was trying to concentrate more on his confrontation with the Headmaster than with the real matter at hand, which was the fact that James Potter, his professor, was his father.

Harry simply couldn't get his head around that simple fact. It led to far too many questions that Harry didn't want to hear the answers to. Harry had gone so long with thinking that his father must be dead that the fact that he might be alive was so foreign that it seemed impossible. Harry had never really considered that his father could be alive. If he was alive, why hadn't he rescued him from the Dursleys? Why hadn't he ever questioned about him? Why had he simply left his Mother without another word? 'Because he doesn't care a wit about you,' said that nasty little voice in the back of his head. Harry didn't want to listen to that voice, he really didn't, but the fact of the matter was that James had never been there for him, and that seemed to be the most logical reason why.

Harry stormed up the spiral staircase and to the wooden door that led to the Headmaster's office after shouting the password at the statue in front. He rapped on the door.

"Please come in," said Professor Dumbledore's calm voice from inside. Harry burst open the door.

"Professor, I need to talk to you," Harry said. 'Shout is more like it,' said that nasty little voice. Professor Dumbledore didn't look the least bit surprised. It was as if enraged young teens stormed his office every evening.

"Please, have a seat. Lemon drop?" Professor Dumbledore offered. Harry shook his head, refusing both the muggle sweet and the seat.

"No, thank you. Professor," Harry said, getting to the point and deciding to be blunt, "Do you know who my Father is?" Professor Dumbledore blinked and leaned back in his chair. 'Calm Harry, stay calm; another outburst won't help your reputation with the Headmaster,' Harry thought to himself, taking deeper and deeper breaths. He knew the old man was hiding something, and his patience was being tested. After all the secrets of the previous year, and all the mistakes Dumbledore had made Harry thought Dumbledore would have learned to tell him important things, but apparently not.

"What gave you that idea, Harry?" Dumbledore asked calmly. That was it. Harry wasn't sure why, but that was what set him off.

"Oh gee, I don't know, could it be the fact that there's this teacher in school who has my face?" Harry yelled. Dumbledore was unfazed, but the twinkle in his eye diminished some.

"Who could you mean?"

"Who could I mean? WHO COULD I MEAN?" Harry was furious. There was no way Dumbledore was this oblivious. "What do you mean who could I mean? Professor Potter that's who I mean. He looks exactly like me, and today he caught Ginny and me in the kitchens sn—erm, getting something to eat, and he looked really ill, and then he called me Mr. Potter. Not Mr. Evans. Mr. Potter. Professor Dumbledore you know what I'm talking about!" Harry cried out desperately. He calmed down and looked on Professor Dumbledore with despair. "Professor, is James Potter my Father?" Dumbledore studied Harry for a moment. He sighed.

"Yes, Harry. Professor Potter is your biological Father," Professor Dumbledore said. Harry decided it would be best if he took the offered chair as he felt his body go numb. He was so numb, in fact, that all of the questions he had feared never once crossed his mind. For once in his life, Harry's mind went completely and utterly blank. Dumbledore began to speak again before the silence stretched.

"Harry, you need to understand. Your Mother and James broke up for very stupid reasons, and they regretted it ever after…James never even knew you were his son. Not until today, of course. So you must understand--," Dumbledore was saying, but Harry tuned him out after that now that the shock was over the numbness left and Harry's mind was spinning. He didn't know until the other day? This brought on a whole new wave of possibilities that Harry could explore. Perhaps James didn't hate him then. A wave of warmth washed over him at the thought that perhaps his father did care a wit about him. Perhaps he finally had a family, after all the Dursleys had never been much of one. Maybe, just maybe he could finally have a normal life.

Then Harry's heart sunk again. If he had just found out though, he might not want anything to do with Harry. No one ever said that he had wanted a son. Harry felt sick. That was probably what would happen. His father would reject him, just like the rest of his family. Why even bother getting his hopes up. Harry interrupted Dumbledore.

"Excuse me, Professor, but I'd like to go now," Harry said glumly. Dumbledore looked at him oddly for a moment, but he nodded.

"All right, Harry. You may go," Dumbledore said. Harry thanked him hastily and walked slowly to his dormitory. It was then that it hit him—no matter if Professor Potter wanted a son or not, he could not avoid Harry. In fact, they had two classes together and one private class. Harry groaned as he finally made it to his bed. This was going to be a very long year, especially if he had two teachers who hated him as much as he hated Voldemort.

Meanwhile, up in his office Dumbledore sighed and shook his head. Now he was going to have to inform James that Harry knew—he did not think that would go over well. This was going to be a very long year.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven 

Harry was in a particularly sour mood the next morning. He wasn't really sure how to respond to this new information, so he simply decided to bite Ron and Hermione's heads off. They had been concerned about him for the entire summer, what with Tonks being killed and all. Now they just mistook his anger for grief and said nothing about Harry lashing out at them. Harry did have a guilty sort of happiness however, as he had no defense classes on this particular day. He had Care of the Magical Creatures first (along with Hermione and Ron, and Ron kept complaining about having to go outside first thing in the morning when it was really cold out—Harry tended to agree, though Hermione told them both to quit their whining) and then later on in the day he had Herbology and Transfiguration. He could live with this day as long as he had no Snape or Potter to deal with.

Harry, Ron and Hermione trudged down to Hagrid's hut in silence. He supposed he should apologize to them, but he really didn't know how. He wasn't ready to explain to them the situation, though he knew already that Hermione had guessed; Ron was a little dafter. They reached Hagrid's hut to find Hagrid bringing in some beautiful winged horses and the new Professor, Professor Lupin, was giving him a hand. This new teacher didn't look so terrible—he had hair that was graying, but looked like it had at one time been blonde, gray eyes and a kind smile. Once the entire class had arrived, he smiled at them all.

"Good morning sixth years, and welcome to Care of the Magical Creatures. You all have been in this class for three years, so I assume that I need not explain to you the details of this course. I am Professor Lupin, for those of you that do not pay attention during Dumbledore's Beginning-of-the-Year speech, and Hagrid will be my assistant this year. The creatures he is bringing in are called, very simply, Winged Horses. There are four types of Winged Horses, the Abraxan, which is a very powerful palomino," Professor Lupin was saying, and showed them a palomino horse with wings. "The Aethonan, which is the most common here," he said, gesturing to a chestnut horse, "the Granian," at this he moved on to a gray horse, "and finally, the Thestral, which I believe you all studied last year and so, I did not think it necessary to bring in an example." It seemed as though Professor Lupin would just go on lecturing, but he surprised them all with what he said next.

"These creatures are becoming widely popular to be kept as pets, and their flying capabilities have made them more popular in America, where the broom has failed to achieve recognition. In Canada they even have invented a game, which they often play with the United States and Mexico, which is very much like the muggle sport of Lacrosse, only on horseback in the air. The sport is considered highly dangerous—even more so than Quidditch, they say, but highly exhilarating as well. I myself have played the game and find it quite enjoyable. This week you will each have a winged horse that you will learn how to care for, and then we will practice flying and eventually play the game of Flying Lacrosse." Professor Lupin said. He then handed them a book on the care of Winged Horses and a rulebook about Flying Lacrosse. Malfoy had a few things to say about this game.

"This stupid Professor's no better than the half-breed! He wants to put us on a bloody flying horse and bang each other with metal sticks with baskets on the end? He'll murder us!" Malfoy said. Harry wanted to stick up for the new professor, but everything that he said—besides the remark about Hagrid being a half-breed—Harry agreed with. He'd ridden Buckbeak only twice, but he knew from that that riding a winged horse was not going to be exactly easy. Not only that, but controlling it enough to play a game and be able to get a good enough grip on it to repel any people that wanted to hit you with a stick without getting knocked off and killed as well as keeping a ball the size of a fist in a little basket? It just seemed like Professor Lupin was asking a bit too much. Nevertheless, they were assigned their horses. Hermione got a noble-looking Abraxan, Ron obtained a skinny Aethonan, and Harry was left with an anxious Granian. Harry was greatful to have gotten the fastest and swiftest of the three breeds, but this horse did not seem like it was going to be under control any time soon. Harry was attempting to groom it, but it wasn't having any of it.

"Please calm down your horse, Mr. Evans," Professor Lupin said calmly. When he saw that Harry was struggling he came over and scratched the creature behind its ears. Gradually the horse—which Harry later learned was named Static—calmed down. "Just scratch this one behind the ears and wings and he'll love you forever. He'll do anything just for a little pat, poor lonely fellow. Otherwise he's anxious, nervous." Professor Lupin explained. Harry nodded, taking over the job of patting the horse. Professor Lupin smiled. "You're on the Quidditch team as a Seeker, yes? Good. You'll do well at this game. All people who play Quidditch generally enjoy and succeed at this game—Seekers and beaters especially."

"Why beaters?" Harry asked stupidly. Professor Lupin just gave a laugh.

"Because they have to resist hitting their opponents with that club for as long as they play, but in this game they finally get a chance to use a stick, even if it is a lot lighter," he said. Professor Lupin moved on to another group of students who were not brushing the animal right. Harry wasn't sure what to make of this new teacher, but at the moment he had more important things to think about. He picked up a brush and put it to the horse's body. Just because he had more important things to think about didn't mean he was going to think about them.

James had honestly no idea why the Headmaster had called him up to his office. Maybe it was due to the fact that James hadn't attended breakfast. Maybe it was because Sirius had told the Headmaster that he had left all of his classes for the day for Sirius to handle alone. Whatever the matter James resented being pulled out of his room like that. It hadn't been done in a very nice fashion either.

"JAMES!" Sirius had yelled, pounding on the door to his room. "JAMES, GET OUT! The Headmaster wants to speak with you!" Sirius was nearly breaking down the door, forcing James to get up and answer it. He said nothing to his old friend, who merely looked at him in concern when he retreated from his room with a resigned expression. Sirius had tried to speak, but James left the room before he could. He didn't want to talk to anyone right now, not Remus, not Sirius and most certainly not the Headmaster.

Yet there he was, standing on the escalator-like spiral steps that led to the Headmaster's office. When he arrived he knocked on the door. The Professor answered. "Ah James, do come in. I need to speak with you," he said.

"So I've heard," James muttered, taking a seat across from the Headmaster's desk while the Professor got out the lemon drops. Oh no. You could always tell that there was some bad news to be broken when Dumbledore brought out the Lemon Drops. "What is it now, Albus?" James asked, rubbing his temples as if he had a terrible headache, which, after all this news, he did. Dumbledore sighed, putting aside the lemon drops.

"Harry came to talk with me last night," he said reluctantly. When there seemed to be no more information forthcoming, James prompted him.

"Oh did he? What could he possibly want?" James asked.

"Well, it seems that there was an ah—slipup, last night. He informed me that you went into a, what must have been, form of shock and called him Mr. Potter. He wanted to know if you were just in shock, or if you were his father. I could not lie to him, James. He knows. I have been terribly unfair to him. It wasn't right of me to keep this information from the both of you. It wasn't right of me to let the boy go without the father he so desperately needs. James, now that he knows…I won't tell you anything. I think Harry will tell you when he deems it is the right time, but Harry has had…issues, I will say, with the family that raised him. He desperately needs you James, but he is too proud to let you in, and for now, he will be too angry to, anyway," Dumbledore stopped to sigh, and he looked older than James had ever seen him look. "I've made so many grave mistakes these past years. I fear that my decisions have completely ruined the poor child."

James just sat there. At least he did not have to tell Harry himself. That now, though, was the least of his worries. Family problems? What kind of Family Issues could Harry have had at such a young age? Also, what was Dumbledore so sad about? James didn't think he had ever seen the Headmaster looking so regretful. All James could think of to say was, "May I go now?" The Professor nodded, still looking downcast.

"Get to know him, James. He's the best lad I think we will see in a good many years. Get to know him, love him, and then earn the right to be proud of him," Professor Dumbledore said, and with that being said, James left the room. He was going to have to talk to Harry as soon as he could. As much as he dreaded the upcoming conversation he knew it was better to have happen sooner than later. As to the Headmaster, well, he would figure him out later.

Just before the end of Harry's Transfiguration class, his last class for the day, Professor McGonagall called him up to the front of the class while everyone else was packing up.

"Mr. Evans, I received this note so it could be passed on to you. It is from Professor Potter," Professor McGonagall said, eyeing him. She was obviously trying to see what Professor Potter wanted by the expression on Harry's face. Unfortunately for her, Harry kept his expression blank, even though a note from Professor Potter was perhaps the last thing he wanted.

"Right. Thanks, Professor," Harry said, taking the note from her. He read the short, but effective, note from his, well, his Professor.

"Mr. Evans," the note read, "Please come and see me following you Transfiguration class in the Defense classroom as I do believe we have some things that need to be discussed." Harry tucked the note away in his pocket. Hermione and Ron were looking at him curiously.

"Go to the common room without me, you two. I'll catch up later," Harry said, leaving the room.

"Harry," Hermione said with worry clear in her voice, face and eyes, but Harry was already gone.

It didn't take Harry long to get to the Defense classroom. There was Mr. Potter, behind his desk. Harry noticed that though the Professor was looking at him, he would not look him in the eye. Harry had no trouble returning the courtesy.

"Please sit down, Mr. Evans," Professor Potter said formally. Harry took the proffered seat. "So. I'll get straight to the point I suppose—no use in beating around the bush. You know that I am you Father. It's just as new to me as it is to you, believe me." Harry just nodded curtly. There was a silence. Then, Harry asked a question that they had both been dreading.

"Why did you leave my Mother?" Harry asked. He was trying not to let the anger in his voice show, the despair. All of the emotions he had were rising to the surface, but he was fighting very hard to keep them down lest tears leak from his eyes. James sighed.

"I suppose I should've expected that question. Harry, I don't think it's necessary to give you all of the details. What I did to your Mother was stupid and unforgivable, and I have always regretted what I have done. I left your Mother because my parents, your grandparents who are now deceased, just so you know, asked me not to marry your Mother. They…they wished for me to marry a pureblood witch. In this my parents were no better than the Blacks or the Malfoys, though they were better people in most other areas. They pressured me, and I relented. Your Mother and I got into a fight one day when she wanted to discuss having children," James rubbed his forehead. He hated thinking about this. "I told her that my parents did not wish for me to marry her because she was a muggle-born. She rightfully got upset and fled. I never saw her or heard what happened to her again, until November first, about two years later. By then, as you know, it was too late for me, too late for her. I should have been there that night. I should have married your Mother, and I should have raised you. I should have died with her that night, but things don't always go as they should. I suppose that all I can say is I'm sorry."

Harry blinked. Once. Twice. Of all the emotions he was experiencing anger was the most prominent. Disappointment and a terrible longing and sadness that he did not understand were a close second. Harry closed his eyes and took a long breath, but it did no good. He heard something shatter. When he opened his eyes he saw it was a mirror, and he became even more angered—he hadn't done accidental magic since his third year, and he was even more upset for losing control of himself. James seemed startled by the burst of magic, but Harry didn't care.

"You're no better," Harry said in a deadly quiet voice, "than Snape. No better than a Malfoy. How could you do that to my Mother? She gave her life protecting me, and yet you couldn't even marry her after getting her pregnant because your precious mother and father told you not to? You're no better than all those gits and their stupid pureblood prejudices!" Harry ended up raising his voice with each statement, and by the end he hollered. A vase on James' desk exploded into a million pieces, cutting both James and himself, but Harry didn't care. He stormed out of the room, furious.

"Harry, wait!" James said, standing up, but Harry didn't listen to him. He kept right on going. He didn't know just exactly what he was going to do or where he was going, but he knew he had to leave. He went out the door, running right past and nearly knocking over a stunned Professor Black.

Harry marched up to Gryffindor tower and put on his invisibility cloak—though he was almost disgusted that he did now that he knew where it came from. He grabbed the Marauder's Map—thank God for the genius creators of said Map—and waited until past dinner. Once curfew had past Harry lit the tip of his wand, muttered, "I solemnly swear I am up to no good" and left through the portrait hole. If the students noticed that the portrait was opening on its own accord, they said nothing.

Harry wasn't really sure where he was going. Just on a walk about the castle, he supposed. He just didn't feel like talking to anyone, and if he stayed in Gryffindor Tower he would be pelted with questions from an upset Hermione and a hurt Ron. He just didn't want to deal with that at the moment. Harry headed towards the Room of Requirement. Maybe if he just passed by it three times with all of his frantic thoughts the room would automatically know what he needed—after all, the room didn't need you to be very specific.

Harry was just turning the corner into the corridor in the hall when he saw a very suspicious sight. Draco Malfoy was entering the room of requirement and Crabbe and Goyle were standing outside as—guards? Watchmen? Harry wasn't sure. Either way, Harry forgot everything he had been thinking of and immediately concentrated on his archenemy. He waited for a while until Malfoy came back out, looking satisfied. Anything that made Malfoy look pleased couldn't be good, Harry thought, and he watched as they walked right past him and back towards, where Harry guessed, was the Slytherin common room. Harry rushed to the door and walked back and forth three times, thinking 'I need to see where Malfoy was. I need to see where Malfoy was. I need to see where Malfoy was.' All this he did in vain, however, as the door remained tightly locked. With growing frustration, Harry looked at the map to see if Malfoy was up to more trouble, but alas no, he was in his Dormitory, presumably sleeping. Harry sighed with frustration. What was he up to? Harry heard a meow from not to far away, and with that he decided that his Midnight walk was over. He could harass Malfoy in the morning.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter Eight 

James sighed when Harry bolted and was out of sight. He sat back down in the seat behind his desk and rubbed his temples. He wasn't exactly an old man, but he wasn't getting any younger. He really didn't need to deal with this right now. James only groaned inwardly when he saw Sirius walk in only seconds after Harry had run out. 'Great. Being pummeled is just what I need right now.' Only, Sirius didn't look about ready to pummel him.

"Sorry to have been eavesdropping. I didn't mean to do it at first," Sirius said blankly. James just shook his head. "So. You're Harry's father." He said after a moment of silence. He turned away, looking out the window. "I guess I always suspected, and that's why it doesn't come as much of a shock. I guess I just never wanted to admit it after I saw how much you were hurting after your argument with Lily. I figured that your having a son with her—well, that would just sting you more. So I blocked out all of the articles I read about him. I ignored the pictures on the front page. I guess I always really knew, but I never wanted to admit it to you or to myself." James looked up. Sirius wasn't very serious very often, yet he could tell by his stance that he was as serious as ever. Sirius turned his black gaze onto James. "I didn't want to believe, so I didn't. It just would hurt you too much, would've hurt Lily too much, would've hurt that boy too much. Yet, now it all comes out. I can't yell at you. I can't punch you like I did when you left Lily the way you did. As much as I'd like to beat the crap out of you right now James, I just can't find it in my heart to. So you better take care of that boy, James, before I find the heart to again." Sirius said.

"Sirius…" was all James could really say. He'd never heard him so impassioned before. Yet Sirius wouldn't stick around even if James had had something to say anyway. He just turned out the door and left. James just shook his head in bewilderment. He knew Sirius had cared about Lily…but had he cared about her as more than just a friend? James wondered. It would make sense certainly; everyone loved Lily, from Remus to James to Snape. Lily simply did not love any of them back. He did remember one time when she and Remus had come very close to dating, but Remus knew James was madly in love with Lily, and so he abstained from any romantic relationship with her. Thinking back on it, James couldn't believe that his friends had been so loyal to him in that way and then he'd gone and stabbed them all in the back by being a stupid pureblood and dumping Lily lack a sack of potatoes. James sighed. What a great mess of things he had made.

Suddenly a flame appeared in front of James, causing him to jump. Slowly the flame turned into a beautiful Phoenix.

"Oh, it's just you, Fawkes. What does Dumbledore need?" James asked, thinking that this was odd. Dumbledore only used Fawkes for Order of the Phoenix meetings. James, Remus and Sirius had not yet rejoined the Order—in fact, they weren't even sure if it still existed. Fawkes handed him a message with his talons and then, with a screech he burst into flames and disappeared. James read the neatly scrawled note.

'The Order of the Phoenix is to have a meeting tomorrow night in the Room of Requirement at seven pm sharp. Do not be late.'

James blinked at the note. So it was still in operation. James shrugged and placed the note in his pocket. He would rejoin then. After Voldemort returned, James had more passion to destroy him than ever since his murder of Lily. Even though now he knew that only Harry could defeat the Dark Lord. James shook his head and frowned. He wondered if the poor boy knew. What a terrible weight to be placed on such a young boy's head. He didn't deserve to have to go through that. In fact, he hadn't deserved to be in that ordeal with the Ministry, either. What else had the boy gone through that he shouldn't have? James' frown deepened. Come to think of it, he didn't know much about the boy at all. Well, that would change if he could help it.

Harry woke to a horrid screeching sound. He opened his eyes—everyone else had already left the dorm room. He put on his glasses and then turned to his left.

"Argh!" Harry yelled as he saw a bright gold and red creature in front of him. His heart rate slowed when he realized it was only Fawkes. "Oh, it's just you Fawkes. You nearly gave me a heart attack, you know!" Fawkes just looked at him and then handed him a note with his talons. Harry took it, confused, then thanked the Phoenix. Fawkes disappeared in a burst of flames. Harry looked at the note.

'Harry-

Usually Order of the Phoenix members must be of age, but due to

your unusual position I feel it necessary for you to join us. Perhaps if you know what is going on we can prevent further incidents like the one last year. I also do hope that you will continue on with Dumbledore's Army, Harry. With your lead, it may one day become the driving force against Voldemort when Phoenix members have died or are too old to fight. Back to the original topic, there is an Order meeting tonight at seven in the Room of Requirement. I bid you to come. Have a nice day, Harry.

-Professor Dumbledore'

Harry looked at the note, once, twice then stuffed it in his pocket. He would attend the order meeting, of course. The thought that he was finally, finally being let in on things was exciting. The part about the DA (Defense Association, aka Dumbledore's Army) however, caused some discomfort in Harry. He didn't like the idea that he would one day be on his own against Voldemort—though, he had to admit that now that he knew that Dumbledore was not, in fact, all-knowing, it didn't seem quite as scary as it would have in his third or fourth year.

Harry shrugged it off and went down the spiral staircase to the common room. Down there he saw Ginny was waiting—quite obviously for him. Harry felt an awful wave of guilt for consciously avoiding her since they kissed. Harry continued on down the stairs to face what he was quite sure would be the Weasley Woman Wrath. To Harry's surprise however, Ginny didn't look enraged—just very concerned, and possibly very confused as well. Harry sighed inwardly. That was all his fault.

"Hi," Harry said feebly.

"Hello stranger," Ginny said. "We need to talk." It was obvious she was trying very hard not to let any emotion of any kind show on her face or in her voice, and she was succeeding quite well.

"Right," Harry said, squirming slightly. When Harry would say no more, Ginny burst out,

"Why have you been avoiding me Harry?" Harry was taken slightly aback.

"I'm sorry Ginny, it's just that I--," Harry began, but Ginny interrupted with a sigh.

"It's just that you don't like me as anything more than your best mate's little sister."

"No, no Ginny, that's not it at all," Harry said, surprised she had even suggested that. "It's just that…well, I've found some stuff out lately, and I guess I just really didn't want to talk to anyone about it. I'm sorry." It was Ginny's turn to be surprised.

"You mean, about you and Professor Potter?"

"Well, yeah." Harry squirmed uncomfortably. Ginny looked relieved—slightly.

"Oh, well that's ok, then. But Harry, you can always talk to me about that. You know you can, or at least I really hope you know that!" Ginny said, looking at him and trying to read his expression. She was just so beautiful. Harry suddenly found himself pressed with that sudden urge he'd felt down in the kitchens—the impulse to kiss her until they both released, gasping for air. Harry took a step closer to her.

"I know, Ginny," he said.

"Harry…" she said, but whatever she was going to say next, Harry never discovered, for at that moment he put his arm around her waist, leaned in and kissed her. For a few moments, everything was right in the world. For a few precious moments Professor Potter was driven from Harry's mind, as were all of his other problems. For those few precious moments were the moments when Harry knew he was happier than he ever would be in his life. Then the moment ended, and he was still elated. If the blush on Ginny's face was any indication, he imagined that the moment had been just as special to her. "Just don't run off this time, okay?" Ginny said. Harry grinned.

"I didn't intend on it." They kissed again.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter Nine 

This was, without a doubt, one of the most odd things Albus had ever done. Surely he did not think that a boy could be of help to the Order. Sirius shook his head. That man was really off his rocker. It didn't matter how advanced a student was in Defense, they would never be truly prepared to fight a DeathEater. Then again, would grown wizards even be prepared to face such evil beings? He sighed. The answer was no. Perhaps he needed to give the boy a chance, even if he did think Dumbledore was mad for inviting him to this evening's meeting.

Dumbledore had warned James that he was inviting Harry to the meeting in order to induct him into the society. Consequently he had also warned Remus and Sirius as they were in the room as well. Remus listened as James miserably told Remus that Harry was his son. Remus only nodded, said, "I thought as much.", and spoke no more. Sirius thought Dumbledore was crazy to let a child into the Order—he should be allowed to have a normal life, after all, but James silenced him by raising his hand. He shook his head and informed him that it was actually better that Harry join the Order than be out of the loop. Sirius did not understand, but he was beginning to think that it was better that way as well. He could still think Dumbledore was mad, though.

Sirius opened the door to the Room of Requirement—the only room ever to escape mapping on the Marauder's Map. Sirius vaguely wondered where that thing had gotten too, but he brushed the thought away as he noticed that already Dumbledore, Minerva and members of the Order who did not teach at Hogwarts were in the room.

"Ah, Sirius, come and sit down, please," Dumbledore said. Sirius obeyed. The adults were all chatting with each other about things that Sirius, even at his not-so-young age, found boring. He waited until the room filled with Order members that were closer to his age—namely James and Remus. Finally the room was filled with everyone in the Order, from the youngest inductees (Fred and George Weasley) to the oldest (Dumbledore)—all except for young Harry Evans.

"All right, Dumbledore, everyone's here, so let's get started, shall we?" Kingsley boomed. Dumbledore shook his head.

"Alas, Kingsley, not everyone is here yet—we are missing one," said Dumbledore. Kingsley looked around the room in confusion, making sure he had not put someone in the room who wasn't there by mistake.

"Who's missing, Albus?" Kingsley asked. At that very moment, as if to answer his question, Harry opened the door, came inside and shut it, standing at the door and not bothering to sit down. Sirius noticed though that he did this out of respect rather than out of being anti-social.

"Ah, Harry, we were all just wondering where you were. Come," Dumbledore said, and Harry obeyed, standing at his side. Dumbledore stood up. "We have with us today a very special person who has five times defied Voldemort and occasionally his followers as well. He is the most skilled young person in Defense that I have ever seen and I think we are lucky to have him on our side. He even began his own Order last year that taught students Defense—specifically against Voldemort and his DeathEaters. One day when we are all old and weak that may become the first line of Defense that the Light will have against Voldemort. Due to these unusual circumstances, I feel it necessary to allow Harry membership into the Order early. He must learn from me how to lead an Order, how to lead an army, so that when his time comes he will be well prepared. I have decided that his formal induction will take place on his seventeenth birthday, but until that time Harry is very much so a member of the Order of The Phoenix. You may be seated, Harry," Professor Dumbledore said. Harry obeyed his orders while everyone just gawked at them both. However, no one seemed in the mood to challenge Dumbledore's decision. Anyone who would oppose fell silent at the look Dumbledore was giving them all.

"On to the rest of our business. As you all know, terrible things have been befalling England lately and Minister Fudge has been replaced by Minister Scrimgeour. Although I find that Minister Scrimgeour is far more competent than Minister Fudge, it is still the Ministry and like always they are against us even though we are fighting the same battle. We must be just as cautious with this new Minister—if not more cautious—as we were before. As to Voldemort's movement, we have our spies watching him, though they are finding it difficult to predict his next move. Our younger spy has informed us, however, of an attack planned on Godric's Hollow. For this attack we have already set our troops in position and have subtly hinted to the Ministry that the Hollow will need protection. As to all else, we must sit and wait. Now, I have placed Kingsley in charge of the Red troops, but I need a volunteer to take charge of the Gold troops." Dumbledore chose a leader for the Gold troops and continued on speaking about the war strategy, most of which Harry did not understand. Eventually Dumbledore stopped to tell them that he would not deny them of their dinner, and a small feast appeared on the long conference table before them. Different groups sat mingling, and Harry felt rather out of place. It was then that he noticed he was sitting right next to Remus Lupin, Sirius Black and his very own father, James Potter.

"I wonder where that old map went," Professor Black was saying. "Any idea Moony?" Harry could not for the life of him figure out who he was talking to until "Moony" or Professor Lupin, answered him.

"I inquired about it to Argus, telling him that now that we were adults and Professors it was our rightful property and he should give it back. I went down with him to his dungeon to look for it, but it wasn't where it should have been. In fact, it wasn't anywhere. Filch cursed at me and said some hooligan must've swiped it. He has no idea where it is—well, no, I take that back. He thinks a certain pair of Weasleys snatched it," Professor Lupin said, gesturing subtly to Fred and George who were talking to Bill and Charlie. Harry wondered vaguely why he hadn't thought of talking with them, or why they hadn't bothered to speak to him.

"They've got it? Then why don't we get it back? They've left school after all, it can be of no use to them," Sirius said.

"We don't know if they took it, and it would probably be rude to ask," Professor Lupin then turned to Harry, though Harry didn't notice until he began to speak to him. "Harry, you wouldn't happen to know if Fred and George Weasley were in possession of a certain…map. It's entitled the "Marauder's Map". James, Sirius and I made it when we were in school, and for sentimental purposes we'd like it back. Do you know if they have it?" Harry froze as a chill like ice passed down his spine. So that was who had made the map. Harry felt sickened and disgusted that he had been using things from his filthy, pureblood Father for so many years to help him avoid trouble and danger. Harry shook his head as disgust and anger boiled inside of him.

"They don't have it," Harry said, but just as Remus began to look disappointed Harry finished, "because I do." All three Marauders froze, looking at him. He gave them all a piercing glare. He hated them all for letting James do that to his Mother. He hated every last one of them. Damn them all for all he cared! Harry abruptly stood up. "If you want it," Harry said icily, "I'll gladly get it for you, because I don't want it anymore." With that Harry left the Room of Requirement, very nearly slamming the door behind him. The Order went silent.

Harry must have looked very much like Snape as he stormed into Gryffindor Tower. His black robes were billowing out behind him and a permanent angry look had settled on his face. The entire Gryffindor common room froze when Harry came in, slamming the portrait hole closed behind him.

"Ha-Harry?" Ginny managed to ask nervously, but Harry merely stormed right on past her to his dormitory. When he arrived there he ravaged his trunk and threw out his stupid invisibility cloak which stood as a symbol of what he thought was the love of a dead father. He threw out the Maurader's Map which had once been just a useful tool to get around the school now turned against him. While he had been clawing out the items of his trunk, however, one last item fell out. It was his mother's photo album. Harry took it in his uncertain hands, though he wasn't quite sure why. He thought he heard something behind him, thought he heard the door to the dormitory open, but at the moment Harry didn't care.

Trembling for an unknown reason, Harry flipped to the first page. Pictures of his mother were there as always. There she was riding a horse, there she was on her bicycle, there she was playing with her muggle friends jump rope in the driveway. Tears threatened to spill from Harry's eyes. This was the woman who had so kindly given him life even when abortion would have been the smarter thing to do. This woman had even loved him so much that she gave her life for him. Now the tears began to fall. It was this woman's screams he heard every night. It was her face he saw. The face of the only being who had ever loved him was the one he was looking at now. He had adored her, and now it seemed that her image was being dragged through the mud by his own Father. She was being mocked and shamed, and Harry simply couldn't take it. All he'd ever wanted was for her to live again. He wanted her love, and Harry was sick to his stomach to admit it, but yes, he wanted the love of a Father too.

It was then that Harry felt a gentle touch on his shoulder. He jumped—he didn't like being surprised, and touching almost always meant that that person meant him harm. Yet when he turned around all he saw was the face of James Potter, the loving father he never knew and never had and now, didn't even want and yet wanted so deeply. Harry turned away from him. He would be strong. He was not about to cry in front of the man who had caused his tears.

"Harry," he said gently. Yet Harry refused to look at him, refused to give him the satisfaction of his tears. Harry was shocked when the older man pulled him into a warm embrace. "Do you really think I'm that awful?" James asked, looking terribly pained. Harry was just so much in shock that he could not move. He'd only ever been hugged by Mrs. Weasley and Ginny, and he knew that gesture to be a nice one, not a smothering technique. So he wondered, why was this man hugging him? "I guess you do." James was saying. He looked down at Harry. Harry, he noticed, was still silently crying, even when he hadn't meant to. When he realized this, he obviously struggled in vain to fight back the tears, but it wasn't working. James looked down upon this child in astonishment—he had almost never known a child to fight back their tears. Perhaps boys did once in a while, yes, so as not to show their weakness, but surely he knew that James did not care? James sighed. No, he supposed. No, he didn't know. James held him tighter so the Harry's face was nearly on his shoulder. He said in the most comforting voice he could manage, the voice he remembered his own loving father used to use on him, "It's okay to cry, Harry."

Perhaps it was with that permission, or perhaps it was because he could no longer fight the tears, but whatever it was Harry finally sat there and cried on his Father's shoulders.

Eventually Harry calmed down. James did the proper fatherly thing and dried his son's tears as he sat there, averting his eyes and looking shame-faced.

"Crying is nothing to be ashamed of, Harry," James said. He was met with a silence that James knew to meant that Harry disagreed. He sighed. "Fine, we'll discuss that later. Now," he said, turning to his trunk, which James noticed had been ravaged. James took his old invisibility cloak and put it into Harry's hands, "That is yours. It was a family heirloom and I do intend upon upholding the tradition. And," James said again, this time taking the old map in his hands and putting it into Harry's, "that is yours as well. It must have been so for years now in this way and just because I showed up that shouldn't change it. You are a prankster—for good, for evil or just for fun; it doesn't matter. That is a gift from me and your Uncles Moony and Padfoot, and we solemnly swear never to catch you out of bed after hours unless it is completely for your own good." James said that last bit while holding up his hand like a boy scout. This, surprisingly to James, tugged a small smile out of Harry.

"Okay. Thank you, Professor," Harry said. James smiled gently at him.

"Just call me 'James', Harry," he said, and with that he got up. "I'd best get going—papers to grade and the like. I will see you tomorrow."

"Yeah, see you," Harry said, just as Professor Potter was leaving. Harry stared after him for quite a while, trying to clear his confused thoughts. Maybe he really wasn't such a terrible guy after all. Definitely no Snape, he could get that much simply because Snape would never touch a person unless to harm them, much less hug them. Harry snickered at the thought of Snape hugging a student. Yeah, that will happen when pigs fly. With that one last thought, Harry got ready for bed and went to sleep.


	10. Chapter 10Chess

Chapter Ten—Chess 

Harry sat on his bed, holding a picture in his hand. It was a picture that had been sent to him by an unknown source. It was brought to him with only a note that said simply, "I thought you might want this." He studied the picture with mixed feelings. It was one of his parents, Lily Evans and James Potter, dancing together outside. By the looks of it, it was probably about fall. They both looked so genuinely happy. Harry at last could see the good in James, but at the same time…how could he have hurt his Mother so much? If she was so obviously in love, why did he have to go and be so…so pureblooded? Harry sighed and set the picture down. He was going to crack from all of this one day, he just knew it. He shook his head and slid off of the bed—he should get ready for class. He had his three lessons with Professor Potter and he didn't want to be late.

It had been two weeks since the 'incident' with Professor Potter. Harry had since then had six lessons with Professor Potter, yet he still wasn't sure if he liked the man or not. He was truly kind, Harry had to admit. Not only that, but he was quite funny and a great mischief maker. Harry found him to be beyond amusing. Yet, on the other hand he simply couldn't forget how he had treated his Mother. He couldn't comprehend why he hadn't just gone against his parent's wishes for love. Harry was still on this thought, still trying desperately to wrap his head around it, when he arrived at his and Professor Potter's special lesson room. Harry took a seat. It wasn't but a couple of minutes later that Professor Potter came out—surprisingly with nothing but a chess board.

"What are we going to do with that?" Harry asked. He hoped that he wasn't going to have to enlarge it like McGonagall had done to a chess set in his first year. Professor Potter set the board down on Harry's desk and pulled up a chair, sitting on it backwards and facing Harry.

"Dumbledore wants to improve your strategy, so we are going to play it," James replied simply, setting up the pieces. Harry quickly joined in.

"He wants to improve my battle strategy, you mean," Harry said. James nodded hesitantly.

"Yes, I suppose so. You go first—you're the white pieces after all," he said. Harry made his first move, and James quickly retaliated. "So, how has school been?" Harry shrugged, picking up a piece and moving it to take one of James' pawns.

"It's been ok, I guess. Nothing unusual," he said. James nodded.

"Well that's good," he said. There was a silence while James contemplated his next move. Finally he began to move his piece. Harry spoke up.

"Why didn't you just disobey your parents?" Harry asked. James looked up, startled.

"What?" he asked stupidly.

"Why didn't you just go against your parent's will and marry my mother if you loved her?" Harry asked, then moved his piece. "Check, by the way." James hurriedly moved his King out of check. Then he sighed. He thought for a moment as Harry moved his Knight. James picked up his pawn, twirled it around in his hand for a little while.

"Well, Harry," James said slowly. "Would you be so willing to go against your guardian's orders?" James was shocked when Harry nodded.

"Of course. I don't care what they think," Harry said. James just stared at him for a moment then shook his head.

"Perhaps that was a bad example, then? Alright, let's try this one. Would you be so willing to go against your Mother's wishes?" he asked. That struck a chord with Harry. He though about it for a moment, and suddenly he felt guilt wash over him—he now knew what a tough decision his father had had to make.

"No," Harry replied. James put the pawn back on the board.

"Checkmate," he said. "Well. There you go, then." They cleared the board and set it back up again. They played silently for a few moves, then it was James who asked a question.

"Don't you like your guardians?" James asked tentatively. Harry shook his head, staring intensely at the pieces on the board.

"No. It's a mutual hatred," Harry said. James was slightly alarmed, but he smiled nonetheless.

"Oh, surely you don't hate them, and most certainly they don't hate you," James said. Harry looked at him, perhaps in annoyance.

"Sure," he said, and moved his Queen. "Checkmate." There was a silence. For James, it was an awkward one—he knew he had made a mistake in saying that he must be wrong. He knew he must have made Harry put up a wall of defense. He sighed, cleared the board and set it up again. James simply could not comprehend parents hating their children or guardians hating their charges. It simply didn't make sense to James. Why, he'd only known Harry for a few weeks and already he could love him as a son—if only Harry would have him. James knew, however, that that was asking just a little too much at this point. He moved his pawn forward.

"They really hate you, then?" James asked quietly. Harry did not respond, only moved his own piece forward. He sat back once he was done.

"What does it matter?" Harry challenged. James was surprised by the question. What did it matter? What did it matter? It mattered a whole lot! It really mattered a lot, especially to James. How had his poor son been treated all of his life?

"It matters a lot to me, Harry," James said softly. Harry looked as if he didn't believe him, which, James thought, he probably didn't.

"Well it doesn't matter to me," said Harry in a very closed-off voice that obviously meant it mattered a lot to him as well, but he wasn't going to let James know that. He moved his rook. "Checkmate."

Harry was finished with his lesson about five minutes later. James had surrendered. He gathered up his things and went down the eerily silent hallway. A slight flicker of movement caught Harry's eye. He saw a little girl—a first year, perhaps—standing silently in the corridor. When she caught sight of Harry she looked frightened and dropped the potions scales that she had been carrying. Harry sighed.

"Here, let me help you pick that up," Harry said in slight annoyance. The little girl just squeaked, shook her head no and ran off in some other direction. Harry shook his head and walked on. If she was going to act stupid, then why should he help her? He went back to the Gryffindor common room. To his surprise, he was not the only one in there. A tall man with black hair was standing by the fire. Harry cocked his head and then realized it was Professor Black. "Er, Professor?" Harry asked tentatively. Professor Black turned around, startled.

"Oh, it's you, Mr. Evans," he said. "What do you need?"

"Nothing," Harry said. "I was just wondering why you were in here." Professor Black looked at him blankly for a moment, as if he hadn't understood the question and then sighed.

"That's a good question, Mr. Evans. I'm not really sure why," he said. He looked around the room fondly. "I was a Gryffindor in my days here, too. I guess I kind of missed it." Harry nodded. He could understand that. Harry himself couldn't comprehend leaving Hogwarts. It had been his life for so long. What would he do? Where would he go? It wasn't like he had any family left—then he remembered; he did have family, just family that he'd rather stay far from.

"Oh," Harry said, sitting down. He took out his books and other homework—he realized that Professor Black was definitely not leaving. He sat down as well.

"Harry?" Professor Black asked. Harry turned to look at him. For all he had a youthful face, his eyes held more wisdom and pain than there should be in a lifetime. Harry's heart went out to him—he knew it would be difficult to be an Auror in these dark days.

"Yeah?" Harry asked.

"Are you happy?" That one simple question took Harry aback. He thought for a moment. He had great friends, loved Quidditch, did well in school. Of course he should be happy—but he wasn't. Too much had happened to him. He knew that after his last year at Hogwarts he would have to break contact with everyone he loved. He would hurl himself into seclusion. His only purpose in life was, after all, to defeat Voldemort. Harry felt a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. He now knew why people didn't usually know what their purpose in life was—because once they found out, they'd feel an emptiness and that would be all they would do. Then what would happen once the deed was done? Did they just die? Did they just drop off the planet? Harry didn't know, and didn't want to know. He felt hollow. He had a set purpose in life, a reason for being born. He should be happy, but he wasn't, because that purpose meant he wasn't allowed happiness. That purpose meant he was only allowed pain. That purpose was what made him answer Sirius' question.

"No," he said, and continued to work on his homework.


	11. A Christmas Surprise

Chapter Eleven—A Christmas Surprise 

It was getting close to Christmas time, and Harry's year could not have gone by more peacefully. Voldemort, though he was making small appearances elsewhere, deemed that he would leave Harry alone it appeared as he hadn't seen one sign of the dark lord the whole year. Harry decided that this was a very good thing, considering he wouldn't have been able to take whatever the dark lord would throw at him because he was distracted by one man—namely, his father, James Potter.

Harry was, quite frankly, very confused. James Potter was a man who he had had a bad opinion of since he learned that he had left his mother. He had gotten an even worse opinion of him when he learned how he had left his mother. Yet, after weeks of private lessons, he had learned that this man had for one, an amazing sense of humor. He could make Harry laugh by just cracking a joke or telling a story of his own days at Hogwarts. He could cheer him up on any given day by just saying a few well-chosen words. Harry, despite all his attempts not to, found himself liking his Father.

There were also other little things that James would do for Harry. If he needed help with any of his homework his father was always more than willing to help. Whenever Harry had a Quidditch game James was always there, cheering the loudest for him. It brought on a strange feeling in Harry that he didn't quite recognize, and his guilt for actually liking the man who had broken his mother's heart wouldn't let him notice it anyway.

Harry wandered aimlessly in the hall, vaguely remembering that he was going to the library. He was deep in thought when suddenly he heard a voice from behind him.

"Harry! Harry, wait up," Ginny Weasley called. Harry smiled and turned around. Despite their first rocky weeks Ginny and Harry had become what no one could deny as boyfriend and girlfriend. James had even teased him about it lately, making Harry turn about as red as Ron's hair.

"Hey Gin, what's up?" Harry said, giving her a quick kiss.

"Well, actually I'm having a little trouble trying to figure out what to get Ron for Christmas," Ginny began. Harry grinned.

"Oh that's easy. Just get him some food—better yet, get him some chocolate frogs," Harry said. Ginny smiled.

"Oh, I know I could do that for him, but it just seems so…I don't know…cheap. I want to get him something nice this year," Ginny said. Harry had to agree with her—Ron had been rather even-tempered so far this year. He had approved of their relationship, which meant that everyone else would, too. That in itself was the biggest favor he could possibly give. Harry himself had gotten his long-time best friend something nice for Christmas—a broom of his own. It was only a Nimbus 2000, but Harry's own Nimbus had always served him well. Granted, Harry had always longed for a Firebolt, but that was way out of his price range. Harry thought that Ron would appreciate a broom of his own, even if it was a little outdated. Besides, Harry thought jokingly, he was really helping himself in the long run because the Quidditch team in the end would benefit from a fast Keeper.

"Well, one time Hermione got me a broom servicing kit for my birthday. I still use it," Harry said. Ginny frowned at him.

"Harry, Ron doesn't have a broom to take care of," Ginny started, but then she saw the creeping smile on Harry's face and gasped. "Harry you didn't!" Harry only grinned more. Ginny smiled back at him and squealed. "Oh, he'll be so surprised! It would be the best Christmas ever for him!" Ginny kissed Harry. "This will be so great! We should really surprise him—don't give it to him Christmas morning—give it to him later that night so he won't be expecting it. He'll probably be all upset too, if I give him the broom servicing kit that morning—it would make it an even better surprised!" Harry smiled then frowned.

"He'd catch on though. I mean, what would I tell him when he doesn't find my present Christmas morning?" Ginny grinned slyly.

"Remember those ominoculars?"

Harry arrived to his private defense lesson that day grinning. He would completely shock Ron. Harry walked into the classroom, and James, who had been reading looked up.

"You look happy—too happy. All right, what did you do this time, buster?" James teased. Harry only grinned more.

"Ginny and I have a Christmas Surprise for Ron," Harry said. "He doesn't have a broom of his own, so I got him one this year…" Harry went on to explain his and Ginny's plan. James smiled.

"That's really great of you Harry. I'm sure he'll love it—and I'm completely sure he'll be surprised," James said. Harry smiled.

"I know. I feel kind of bad though—it's the Christmas present that gives back. If Ron's got a better ride, then he'll probably let fewer goals in. Those old school brooms he can hardly maneuver on at all," he said.

"Just think of that as an added bonus," James said.

Christmas came faster than anyone had ever expected. Before Harry knew it Hermione and the rest of the school was going back home for Christmas vacation and all the shopping he'd had to do was finally done. For Ginny he had purchased a color changing rose that never wilted, for Hermione a book in which the story went exactly as you wanted it to, for Ron of course the broom, and for his father he actually had purchased a gift. He had learned of his father's own obsession with Quidditch and how he used to nick the school's snitch all the time. So, for his Father he obtained a golden snitch.

On Christmas morning Harry had fun opening his presents with Ron. When Ron did ask about Harry's gift, or rather lack of one, Harry took Ginny's suggestion and reminded him of the ominoculars. Ron accepted this, though he did look disappointed—it was difficult for Harry to suppress his grin. Ron was, for the most part, as miserable as one could be on Christmas after he had received no gift from Harry and the gift from Ginny was an absolute bust. They walked into the Great Hall for the traditional Christmas Feast with Ron sulking.

"Happy Christmas, James," Harry said brightly when he spotted his father. James smiled.

"Happy Christmas, Harry," he said. "After dinner would you like to come with me to my quarters for some hot chocolate?" Harry smiled.

"Sure," he said. Soon everyone was seated at the High Table. The twinkle in Dumbledore's eyes was unusually bright on this day, even for Christmas. Harry vaguely wondered why, but was abruptly distracted by the crackers that were being passed out. Of course they contained the same fun things that they did every year. In Harry's case it was a "You Can Be A Wizard Too!" play set that was made for muggles to play pretend. Harry was amused by the plastic, flashing play wand and pointed, vinyl pop-up hat. "I could turn you into a toad with this, Ron," Harry chuckled, reading the "book of spells" that had come with the set.

"Oh yeah? Well I could make your face all warty," Ron said. He had gotten a grow-your-own wart kit. Harry smiled. The feast was over an hour later and Harry found himself trailing along beside his father as they went to his quarters. When they arrived Harry took out his gift for him.

"Happy Christmas," he said. James looked at the wrapped present for a moment in what looked like slight disbelief and then took it graciously.

"Thank you, Harry," he said, and without opening his own gift he turned and took out a long, thin, wrapped gift. "Happy Christmas, Harry." Harry was slightly surprised—he hadn't really expected to get anything from his professor.

"Thanks," Harry said, taking the gift and wondering what it could be. He then looked up at James. "You first." James grinned.

"Fine, bossy," he teased. He took the small parcel that was in his hands and opened it to find a small golden ball inside. The look on his face told Harry that he knew all too well what it was. "Harry…" James began, but Harry just smiled.

"You're welcome," he said. Harry then proceeded to carefully open his own gift. Harry gulped and swore that his eyes must have popped out of his head when he saw the gift. It was a new broom, but not just any new broom; it was a Firebolt. James' grin couldn't have been bigger.

"Happy Christmas, Harry. That's a gift from me as well as Professors Black and Lupin. Think of it as a gift from sixteen years missed of birthday and Christmas gifts. Harry just stared up at him.

"You're serious? You aren't joking? This is mine?" Harry asked incredulously. James just laughed.

"Of course I'm serious. Why would I play such a mean trick? Besides," James said leaning in and smiling, "I feel kind of bad—it's the Christmas present that gives back. If the Gryffindor seeker has a better ride, then no one will be able to catch him." Harry looked from his father to his broom to back again, and then in one decisive moment, he leaped up and father and son _truly _hugged for the first time ever. "Happy Christmas, Harry."


	12. Valentine's Day

Chapter Twelve—Valentine's Day 

A/N: SIYE is a strictly H/G site. This is what is called a filler chapter. It has H/G. If you aren't an H/G Ship, then please do not comment on the H/G. It is a requirement for the other site, and I feel no need to alter the story. If you really can't stand H/G, then I suppose you could skip the chapter. There isn't any major plot point in this that you won't find in the next chapter, so whatever.

James' gift to Harry proved to be useful, as did Harry's gift to Ron, as Gryffindor was well on its way to taking the House Cup. So far they had pummeled Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff, and now only had Slytherin to take on, who had also pummeled Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff. Now, the match for the Quidditch Cup was approaching, as was Valentine's day, which no one could deny. There were fat little cupids flying around the school again, singing ballads quite badly. Harry was, to put it mildly, stressed out. Not only did he have a team to organize but he also had to think of an amazing surprise just for Ginny

He had decided that he would make her dinner himself and set the date up in the Room of Requirement. Unfortunately, Harry also had the Quidditch game on Valentine's day, which would most likely end up being from five to six, which was when he would need to start making the dinner. He supposed that he could just let the House Elves do it, but then it wouldn't be as personable or as surprising. So, on Valentine's Day Harry set off for the room of requirement and began to bake a red velvet cake. He put it in the oven and then ran to the Gryffindor common room to get changed for the game.

"And we're here folks with the Quidditch Cup Championship! This year the brave, fantastic Gryffindors face the slimy, smelly Slytherins! Ow, hey Professor McGonagall I'm only telling the truth. Anyway, it's Katie Bell with the quaffle, and now she passes to Johnson," Seamus was emceeing the event. Harry had to smile. Yes, now that Lee Jordan was no longer the announcer it seemed fitting that a Gryffindor with just as much personality should take up the stand. Harry went back to concentrating, looking for the snitch and periodically looking at the score. He spotted the snitch once, by Angelina's ear, but there was a bludger coming right towards her, which luckily she spotted and got away from, but unfortunately the snitch got away as well before Harry could even say "Quidditch".

The game was running longer than Harry thought it would. It was fifteen minutes over what Harry had thought it would run when he spotted the snitch. He and Draco had a short face off, but Draco's Nimbus was not match for Harry's firebolt, and he quickly took the snitch. Not only, Harry reflected, had they just won the Quidditch cup and he was the captain, but now he could get back to the room of requirement.

Unfortunately for Harry, the over-enthusiastic team was not just about to let him go anywhere. They'd raised him up above their heads, cheering and carried him all the way to the Gryffindor common room where an impromptu party began. The party was great, and Harry had had his fill of butterbeer before he could sneak away with Ginny to the room of requirement. Ginny was giggling all the way there.

"But Harry," she'd said more than once, "there's a perfectly fine celebration in there. You really don't need to surprise me even more!" Yet Harry insisted upon it. When they arrived at the Room, Ginny gasped. The room must have covered every inch in red roses, or, for on the floor, red rose petals. "Oh, Harry," she said. Harry grinned and went into the little kitchen. "That's not all, Gin. I baked you a cake!" he said. He stopped grinning when he got there and frowned. The cake sure did smell funny…he opened the oven and, just to show Harry's luck, the cake exploded in his face. Harry wiped the cake from his eyes and looked at Ginny apologetically.

"I'm sorry Gin. I tried to bake the cake, but I guess it overcooked," he said, sounding depressed and got a towel to wipe off the rest of his face. Ginny just cracked up in laughter.

"Oh, oh Harry!" she laughed. It sounded like she was going to say more but she was too caught up in laughing to be able to do so. Harry looked at her in confusion.

"What's so funny?"

"You should have seen the look on your face! Or just your face in general, all covered with cake batter!" Ginny grinned. She walked over to him smiling. "Harry, don't you know that I don't need all of this? All I need is you. That's the best Valentine's present you could give me." She kissed him. "I love you, Harry."

"I love you Ginny," Harry said. They kissed again.

About a week after Valentine's Day, James was sitting in his office grading papers when he heard a slightly timid knock on the door.

"Come in," James called. He was surprised to see Sirius walk in and sit down across from him. Their friendship had been strained ever since Sirius discovered that Harry was James' son. It was only strained in little ways, but the slight tension was definitely there. "Haven't come to beat the crap out of me, have you?" James asked jokingly. Sirius shook his head, and James realized that this was going to be another serious Sirius moment. James put down his quill and gave his best friend his full attention. Sirius didn't say anything for a moment and then he began to speak.

"Around the beginning of the school year I asked Harry if he was happy. It was just a simple question, but I think he and I both knew that it was more serious a question than either of us would let on. He took a moment to think, and then he answered me quite frankly, 'no'. I thought I knew for the longest time. I thought he wasn't happy because of you. Now I think I get it. I don't think that that was the reason. James, I think there are just some things that Harry needs a father for. I think there are some things you just need to ask him about," Sirius got up. "You know James, Harry is a lot like me. He might not understand you, but at least he tries to. You should extend the same courtesy to him." Sirius got up and left, leaving James with his thoughts.

Sirius, James knew, had felt doubly betrayed when James left Lily. Not only had his friend gone dumped the girl that Sirius himself loved like a sister (and more, if it had ever been allowed), but he had also thrown away all of the values Sirius held so dear. Sirius had loathed his Pureblood family. They beat him, they starved him. They tried to make him into a Slytherin, but despite all of their attempts to turn his heart black, his heart of gold stood strong. It was so strong that he had left his own parents and taken refuge at James' house. James could see the many parallels between his best friend and his son, and knew that Sirius understood Harry better than James could. It was that that was the reason that James knew Sirius was right. He and Harry needed to have a little talk—James even knew what about. James needed to talk to Harry about that oh so sore and tender subject—where he'd taken up residence for the past 15 years.

"Dobby!" James called. Dobby was the house elf that had been assigned to James when he began teaching. Dobby suddenly appeared.

"Yes, Mr. James sir?" Dobby asked eagerly.

"Could you tell Harry Evans to come see me, please?" James asked. Dobby squealed.

"Mr. Evans, sir? Of course! Dobby will tell Mr. Evans right away, sir!" and with a pop Dobby was gone. James shook his head, smiling. Dobby was an odd little elf, but he was definitely one of the sweetest elves he'd ever met. James waited a while and sure enough Harry came in a few minutes later.

"You wanted to see me?" Harry asked. James nodded and gestured to a seat.

"Yes. I just wanted to talk with you," James said. Harry smiled—how James so loved to see that smile now.

"What about?" he asked. James shrugged.

"Well, you know almost everything about me. I can't even number how many stories I've told you. Yet, I don't know all that much about what's happened in your life Harry. Why don't you tell me?" James asked. Harry shrugged.

"There isn't much about my life that you couldn't read in The Daily Prophet," Harry said. James looked Harry in the eye.

"I don't want to hear about it from a tabloid. I want to hear about it from my son," James said. Harry sighed and shrugged.

"Well, I guess I could tell you about it," Harry said. "Where do you want me to start?"

"Why not with your Hogwarts letter?" James asked. Harry was reluctant to tell him, but he did it anyway. He was slightly surprised and James' outrage about the Dursley's. Once Harry had told him about them, Harry couldn't even go on with the story. James wanted to know every awful thing that they'd ever done to him. So, Harry was stuck with telling James stories of the Dursley's. Harry was pleased as James got madder and madder with each new tale.

"Wait here for a moment, Harry. I need to have a word with the Headmaster," James said. He left the office and Harry couldn't help but smile. After all of these years it was finally out in the open. The Dursley's were something that Harry never even talked about, not even to Ron, Hermione and Ginny. Yet here he found himself talking freely to his father about their terrible sins against him. Harry waited for perhaps forty-five minutes for James to get back. He came back looking pleased and even a little smug. He took off his wizard's robe to reveal the muggle clothes he always wore underneath. "Harry, go get changed. Remember to bring a jacket—we're going on a little road trip."

James' 'little road trip' turned out to be to Number Four Privet Drive. They had gotten there via side-along apparition, making Harry feel slightly queasy, but he held up all right.

"What are we doing here, James?" Harry asked. He didn't feel frightened anymore, like he would have had Snape or some other teacher brought him here. He trusted his father wholly, and he knew that he would never lead him into danger or bring him back to this awful place with the meaning of leaving him there.

"Exacting due revenge, my boy. I'm sure you've always wanted to play a trick or two on these awful people," James said with a malicious glint in his eye. Harry smiled cynically.

"Oh yes," Harry said. "I've wanted to for a very long time." Harry and James snuck around to the back of the house. It was nighttime, and the Dursleys were sleeping. Harry and James had much fun setting various magical traps along the house, even one that included Spell-O-Glue, chocolate syrup and lots and lots of chicken feathers. When they were finished, James smiled smugly at Harry.

"We'll come back in the morning," he said.

"Yes," Harry said. "You know, I really think that revenge has been exacted, James." James grinned.

"Yes, and I've never been so proud of my son, coming up with all of those pranks! I didn't know you had it in you my boy." James said. This time, Harry grinned.

"You never should have doubted me, Pops." With that, the two apparated back to Hogsmeade.


	13. Danger Cometh

Chapter Thirteen—Danger Cometh 

A/N: I know it seems like the story is rushed, or, if it didn't seem that way before it probably will now. Thing is, this was never meant to be a super-long story, and I didn't have any plans for it. I kind of had the beginning and end with no middle, so that's sort of how the story turned out. Despite that, I hope you like it, and please don't tell me the story is rushed--I already know that.

The saying revenge is sweet definitely was accurate when Harry and James returned to the Dursley's the next morning. James and harry watched through the window as the Dursley's screamed as they were promptly glued and feathered, and then covered with chocolate syrup. Harry stepped inside the house when it was over, laughing. His Uncle's face turned purple.

"YOU! YOU FREAK! YOU DID THIS! WELL, NOW THEY'LL KICK YOU OUT OF YOUR PRECIOUS LITTLE FREAK SCHOOL, AND YOU WON'T HAVE ANYWHERE TO GO!" Vernon shouted, advancing on him. Harry just smirked as he looked around at the two whales. Dudley was caught between being dumbstruck and cowering, and his mother was bewildered and angry. Vernon, of course, looked like a giant grape, which made Harry laugh.

"Oh, I might have helped plan it, but I didn't actually do it. No, no, that honor belongs to my father, you see. This is revenge. This is revenge for all those years of torture. What you took away from me, what you denied me. At best you ignored me, at worst you beat me. This is payback. You're here, covered in syrup and feathers, and look at me now, standing here confident, proud, smiling and I certainly do have a place to go. I, unlike you, have friends. I also have a father. So there. You shouldn't get any satisfaction knowing that I am unhappy—because guess what? I'm perfectly content," nad with that, Harry left the house and did side-along apparition with his father to go back to Hogsmeade once more.

Harry had a good time laughing. The Junoir Marauder, Harry Evans, the boy they had tormented his whole life, the boy that at best they had ignored and neglected, had finally exacted his revenge, even if it was a small one. Harry had an even better time when he got back to Hogwarts and got to tell Ron, Hermione and Ginny of the escapade. Needless to say, most of it was interrupted by fits of laughter on everyone's part. Unfortunately, this would be one of the few happy moments Harry would have in the coming months.

March, April and May came and went; June came, and Harry would have given anything to say that June went as well, but unfortunately June was the worst month of Harry's, or any Hogwarts students', life. It had been a fairly ordinary day overall. Harry was in his private defense lesson with James when they heard the first ear-splitting scream. Both father and son leapt to their feet and ran towards the sound, wand in hand. Many classes had done so as well, and the sight before them made most of the classes scream in terror. Pandemonium had hit—Death Eaters were inside Hogwarts. James fought his way through the stampeding crowd, yelling for them to come into order and for the sixth and seventh years to help fight. Harry ran to find the Headmaster.

His mind was racing. How could they have gotten in? Where was Dumbledore? Why hadn't the wards worked as they were supposed to? Swiftly he threw a curse at an approaching Death Eater. How could this have happened? The teachers looked strained, their faces drawn tight. Students were going down a mile per minute, luckily none of them killed as far as Harry could tell. He ran to the Headmaster's office. When he got outside of the room he burst in without knocking. No one was there. Panic was seizing Harry—where was he? Maybe he was fighting the death eaters—but, somehow Harry knew better. Harry ran from the room, uncertain. He cursed a deatheater on his way out. What was going on? Harry had never before felt so abandoned in his life.

Meanwhile, James was fighting with the other students and teachers. Panic gripped him as he realized he had no idea where Harry had gone off to. Was he okay? Was he captured? Was he even alive? James had no idea but for Harry's sake as well as his own he hoped to god that he was okay. After what seemed like hours of fighting the Aurors arrived along with members of the Order of the Phoenix (the Phoenix had arrived first, far more promptly.) but unfortunately more and more death eaters were arriving—most frighteningly was that Fenrir Greyback and his gang had arrived. Remus and Sirius were in sight and he could see Remus' face pale but then go red with fury. James smiled grimly. If anyone could kill that evil werewolf it was Remus.

"Protego!" James shouted as he saw a curse come flying at him. James was feeling slightly sick—the castle was just one giant blur of different colors as curses and hexes were thrown all over the place. Eventually they drove off the Death Eaters. James felt just about ready to collapse when it was all over. He looked around grimly—some of the people he had knew, Aurors or Order Members, lay on the floor dead. What had they done to deserve this? James shook his head. It was all so awful.

"Dad!" called a voice. James did not instinctively turn around, but he recognized the voice as Harry's and then turned with relief.

"Harry, you're alive! I thought something awful had happened to you!" James said, catching his son in a bear-hug. Harry looked caught between shock and crying. "What did happen to you?" James asked, concerned.

"Dad…Dad, I couldn't find Dumbledore. He was gone from his office. He's just disappeared!" James frowned, but his first and primary concern was his son—his second was Dumbledore. James just hugged his son.

"It's ok, Harry. We'll find him. I promise," James said. Though, James had the sinking feeling that, if they found him at all, they would find him dead.

Somehow enough order emerged out of the confusion that deaths were tallied, injuries were made note of and treated, and Dumbledore's disappearance was known to everyone in the castle, thus, everyone was grieving even more than they would have been had the castle just been attacked and everyone had died. James was helping out in the Hospital Wing, along with at least fifty different Healers from St. Mungos. The most serious cases were being taken to St. Mungos itself to be treated. One of the worst cases was Bill. He'd been ripped up terribly by Greyback, but there wasn't much that could be done for him. He'd live, but he might have some side-effects. Oh well, Harry reflected. Fleur still loved him, and they would still be married. Overall, it hadn't been too bloody of a battle. The only one dead was a Death Eater, killed by one of his own (because the bloke who killed him was stupid and was just shouting Avada Kedavra at random.) Harry sighed. He knew that this was the real beginning of the war. Things were just starting, and for some, just starting all over again. The hard battle was fought, was ended, and reincarnated to fight once more. He even caught a glimpse of Flitwick crying silently. Harry's heart went out to him. It was supposed to be over, supposed to be all over with no more death, no more pain…and yet, here they were, fighting again. Harry sat down on one of the beds and realized just how tired he was. Within moments he was fast asleep.

The next few months were painstaking at best for Harry. With Dumbledore captured or worse, Harry was leader of two anti-Voldemort groups, The Order of course as well as Dumbledore's Army. Harry had to admire his peers. They were even more adamant about fighting now that Dumbledore was gone. They dedicated everything they did to the old man.

Leading the Order was a very strange matter for Harry. He had Moody co-lead with him, for Harry was not much good at commanding legions of armies. As to being able to command adults, surprisingly he found that he could hold their attention. They held a certain degree of respect for their young commander. Harry had already led them through various battles, and the worst losses that they had suffered so far were two. They were two newer members that Harry hadn't really gotten the chance to know. He mourned the loss, yet he secretly was jubilant that it hadn't been anyone that he had known.

His Father through these months was his constant. He could always confide in him his worries, and he found himself often doing so. He never realized how much he had bottled up inside. He realized that perhaps he didn't have to be so much of a lone wolf, quite so self-sacrificing. He could do his duty, he found, and still be happy. His destiny didn't have to control his entire life. Through these difficult months he also had made the seamless transition from calling James by his first name to calling him "Dad". It came to the point where Harry couldn't imagine himself calling him anything different. He laughed back on the days when he hated his father, and he marveled that it had been but a short year ago. Harry smiled at his Dad one night when they were having hot chocolate together.

"It's hard to believe," Harry said, "what I've been missing out on all these years." James smiled.

"You won't have to miss out on it anymore, Harry. I promise you." Content, Harry sipped his hot cocoa. Suddenly Remus and Sirius came into the house. They had grim expressions on their faces.

"We fought a battle not too long ago," Sirius said. Harry was alarmed. A battle? Why hadn't he been informed? As if he read his mind, Sirius answered him, "We wanted you to have a peaceful night. You deserve one, kiddo." Sirius had become like an Uncle to Harry lately. He found he liked the funny dog-man. Remus, too, had become like an Uncle to Harry, though more in the sense of a mentor, like how Dumbledore had been a grandfather-figure to Harry. Harry nodded in acceptance. He was grateful that they occasionally offered him a reprieve. "We caught the snake himself," Sirius said, sounding irritated, "We used the killing curse on him, right off the bat, but it didn't kill him. Didn't do anything!" Sirius sounded outraged. Harry knew the reason why it hadn't worked, that Harry had to be the one to kill him, but it still made Harry mad. "He's like a Phoenix. No matter how hard you try, he just won't die, at least not permanently!" Harry gave a light smile. Sirius very easily lost his temper, but now he was just being silly.

"Au contraire, Sirius," Harry said. "It's very easy to kill a Phoenix. All you must do is kill it's master. The trick is that the master is usually very difficult to kill."

"What do you mean?" Sirius asked, irritated. Remus explained for him.

"There's another route, Sirius. An indirect, difficult route, but a back route that will eventually lead to Voldemort's death," Remus turned to Harry quizzically. "What might that back route be?" Harry shrugged a little helplessly.

"To be honest, I don't know. What I do know is that we can kill him. It isn't impossible, and it will be done. The problem is, how," Harry said. Harry took a swig of his hot cocoa. Remus and Sirius realized that they shouldn't bother him with more questions and sat down to enjoy some hot chocolate as well.

It wasn't long before Voldemort struck again. The Order and the DA were both well prepared for the attack on Godric's Hollow. Harry was very proud of them all. They were all so valiant and brave. He often wondered why they all hadn't been placed in Gryffindor. They all surely deserved it. They were all fighting their hearts out, including Harry, when suddenly Harry got hit with a curse from behind. Harry went rigid as a board and realized he must have been hit with Petrificus Totalus. A death eater came and picked him up, stuffing him in a large black bag. Harry was panicking slighty—was it possible to suffocate in this bag? Was that their crude plan? Harry struggled against the curse, but to no avail. Harry could feel himself being transported by side along apparition and felt sick. If it weren't for the fact that all muscles in the body were paralyzed Harry knew he would have hurled. Suddenly harry was rudely dumped out of the bag. It took his eyes a while to adjust to the dim light. He could hear voices, and the curse was lifted off of him. He was in what looked to be a jail cell.

"Don't even try apparition, Evans," Harry could hear Lucious Malfoy sneer. "there are wards on the cell." Harry didn't argue. What would be the point? Harry waited for hours. He wondered if everyone back in Godric's Hollow was okay. He hoped his father and friends had gotten through unscathed. After five hours must have passed, judging by the light that was starting to come through his barred window, Harry began to wonder, if they knew he was gone, if anyone was going to come and rescue him. Harry figured they'd try—he was, after all, their leader now. Harry sighed and put his head against the grimy, cold, stone wall. Most of all, he wondered what the Death Eaters were planning to do to him.

He found out quickly as he was dragged out of his cell—he refused to walk—and taken to a dark room, lit by magical flames that gave off little light around the room. He was dragged to a pit in the center. Death Eaters swarmed around the edges. He could hear steps coming towards him, and he saw Voldemort standing a few feet away. He laughed that spine-chilling laugh that raised the hairs on the back of Harry's neck. Harry reached for his wand but he quickly realized that it had been taken away from him. Vaguely he wondered when that had happened and where it was.

"Well, well," Voldemort said in his cold, high-pitched voice. "If it isn't Mr. Evans. I was wondering when you might grace us with your presence."

"Funny, I was wondering when you would disgrace wizard-kind with yours," Harry said airily.

"Interestingly enough you are still annoying down to your very last. Ah well, let's see if you're so annoying after a little of this," Voldemort said maliciously. "Crucio." Harry immediately collapsed to the ground. He bit his lip. He would not scream, despite the searing pain. He wouldn't give Voldemort his sick satisfaction. After what seemed like a lifetime, the curse was lifted. Harry could taste coppery blood in his mouth—he'd bit his lip until it was bleeding profusely. "You always were a Gryffindor to the end. Pity. You would have done great in Slytherin. Do you want me to tell you something Harry? Why all of your attempts at destroying me have failed? I have horcruxes. Do you know what that is, little boy? It is a soul fragment. I had seven. Once I kill you, I will make another one since this was so sweet a victory. My life will have no end. I will rule until the end of time! I shall kill you soon, but first," Voldemort said, looking like he'd just been told that Christmas came early this year. "Crucio." Harry was sent into waves of unrelenting pain again. Harry didn't know for how long the curse was on him, but it was long enough. Finally, he screamed.

The battle of Godric's Hollow had been a very difficult one. James was exhausted, to say the least. There had really been deaths this time. They had lost some very important players, as had the Death Eaters. It had been a victory, but James laughed cynically at the word. What was a victory really, if people lay dead? No, there truly was no such thing as victory in war. There was only a side that got their way and a side that had so many losses that they did not. James sighed as he tromped along the grass, looking for Harry. Where had that boy gotten off to? James get walking until he felt himself step on something uneven. He nearly lost his balance and went to see what it was. James picked it up in horror—it was his son's wand. Luckily he had not harmed it, but that was not James' concern at the moment. This was Harry's wand. He would never willingly leave his wand behind anywhere. James raced blindly through the ranks, searching for Mad-Eye. He found him being tended to (with him being grouchy about it all the while) by a healer. He had sustained a wound in the leg, but nothing too serious.

"Moody," James said urgently. Moody's magical eye swiveled to look at him. "Moody, have you seen Harry?" Moody shook his head.

"Nah. Haven't seen the lad since the battle started. Why?" Moody asked.

"Because this is his wand," James said, holding it up—though he knew he didn't need too—Moody could see it before just fine. Moody got up and grabbed his cane and started shouting. That got people's attention.

"All able-bodied persons!" He yelled. "Our leader has gone missing—probably captured by those slime balls! We need a rescue party. Do we have any volunteers?" Immediately everyone who could rushed forward. Moody nodded to James. "You have your pick," he growled. James nodded and started picking out the strongest Aurors of the group. Reluctantly, he picked out Sirius and Remus as well. He wished he could leave them behind, but he knew that that wouldn't be doing anyone any favors. Together they worked out a plan. Their spy had told them where the HQ for Voldemort was, and they assumed that Harry had been taken there. James would barge in with the others backing him up and they would use a portkey to get out. After they had each made individual little portkeys from coins, they set off to, what James considered, the pit of hell.

They arrived at the dank old jailhouse quickly and went in carefully. James was surprised to find no one on guard duty. They set off through the winding maze of a jail. It had obviously been enlarged magically. There was no sign of Harry, or even of Death Eaters. Sirius said quietly,

"I don't think he's here, James." James felt a sinking in the pit of his stomach. If he wasn't here, then where else might he be? Just when they had all just about given up hope and were about to turn back, they heard an almost unearthly scream. James' heart lept.

"Harry! I'm coming!" James said and sprinted toward the sound, the Order members right behind him. He wrenched open a door to a dimly lit room where hundreds of death eaters were in congregation, watching something. James started screaming stunning spells at random, his rescue party backing him up all the way. James made his way to the center, where there was a pit. Voldemort had looked up, surprised by the sudden attack.

"Stupefy!" James shouted the stunner at the Dark Lord, and in the time that it had taken Voldemort to block the spell, James had jumped down, grabbed Harry, shouted, "NOW!" to the Order members and activated the portkey.

Naturally, the portkey took them straight to the makeshift healing center at Godric's Hollow. James set Harry down on a bed gently. Harry opened his eyes, a slow comprehension dawning on him.

"Dad?" he rasped. James just nodded and smoothed back Harry's black hair.

"Yes, I'm here. Shh, don't speak. You're safe now," James said. The Order members were coming back in a steady stream now, and one had shouted for a healer to get their butt down to Harry. Eventually a Healer did come, along with a potion for the Cruciatus curse that had been set upon him.

"Lucky to be alive. Lucky to still be sane. He held out longer than the Longbottoms did," the Healer was saying as he held the potion to Harry's mouth. It had a sour, disgusting taste but Harry obediently drank it, knowing that by tomorrow he'd be glad he did. The Healer then gave him a dreamless sleep potion, and Harry, exhausted, fell straight to sleep.

That afternoon he awoke in his father's house, his house as well now, and felt as good as new. He got out of bed and went downstairs. He could smell bacon and chocolate chip pancakes. His Dad was downstairs cooking, Sirius talking with him jovially. James smiled when he saw Harry.

"Hey, how are you feeling?" he asked. Harry smiled.

"Good as new. That potion really did the trick," Harry said.

"Glad to hear it. Go take a seat at the table with Remus. Lunch will be done in a minute," he said, gesturing to the table with his spatula. Harry took a seat as he was told.

"Hullo, Remus," Harry said cheerily. Remus looked up from The Daily Prophet to give Harry a smile.

"Good afternoon, Harry. I'm glad to see that you're feeling better," he said. Harry nodded and grinned as Sirius put a plate in front of him.

"Eat up, Kiddo," Sirius said. "You need to get back to full strength. Besides, you deserve a good meal after last night." Harry nodded.

"Thanks, Sirius," he said, and promptly dove into his meal—he was starving. He looked at the clock and wasn't surprised to find that it was already two o'clock in the afternoon. He guessed that he'd had about ten hours of sleep, so he'd probably been up until four in the morning when Voldemort took him out for torture. "We need to call an Order meeting today. Could you guys take care of that for me?" Harry asked. He needed to tell everyone what Voldemort told him when he thought Harry was near his dying moments.

"Sure Harry," James said, and went to activate the coins that they had adopted from the DA.

That evening they held an Order/DA meeting. Harry began to tell them of the Horcruxes, and what objects he thought might be Horcruxes.

"I guess Dark Lords tend to get cocky when they think their captive is about to die," James had joked.

Knowing that Dumbledore had known much about Tom Riddle, Harry requested that someone bring him the Headmaster's pensieve. Professor McGonagall had obliged, and Harry soon had some even better ideas of where the Horcruxes might be, and just what they might be. Harry sighed. Thus begun a new chapter of his life and adventure.

"Perk up, Mr. Evans," Professor Flitwick said cheerily. "Now we have a chance at destroying that monster."

"Potter," Harry said absently.

"I beg your pardon?" Flitwick asked, confused.

"Evans-Potter. That's my last name," he said. James beamed at him. "I guess I have to get that officially changed, so as to reduce confusion," Harry mumbled to himself. He smiled at his Dad, and his Dad smiled back. Suddenly Harry let that feeling that had for so long gone unidentified for him wash over him. He understood the feeling at once. Love. The Power The Dark Lord Knows Not…all at once, Harry knew exactly what power he had that the Dark Lord did not. He had the power to love, and that was enough. Harry sighed, this time in contentment. He would get through this, no matter how difficult. As long as he had his father by his side, nothing would stop him. He smiled as the Order members left and immediately plunged in to finding the first horcrux.


	14. The Final Battle

Chapter Fourteen—The Final Battle 

A/N: This story has fifteen chapters, the next chapter is an epilogue of sorts.

Harry did not return to Hogwarts for the start of the year. The DA did, so Harry was slightly relieved and slightly anxious at the same time. Now he had less people to have to command, but that also meant fewer people in the war against Voldemort. Yet, he knew it was best for the to continue their education. The only ones that stayed behind to help were Harry's closest friends, Ron, Hermione and Ginny. This made Harry slightly worried as well, but at least this way he could keep a closer eye on them to make sure they stayed out of harm's way.

They had successfully tracked down and destroyed five of Voldemort's seven horcruxes. A mouth organ in a haunted orphanage was among many of the enchanted objects in the several dangerous places that they had been. Harry guessed that the Diary in his second year had also been a horcrux, so Harry decided that they had probably destroyed six of the seven horcruxes, not five. Harry had been mortified beyond belief at the different, horrifying guards that Voldemort placed to protect his various fragments of soul. He was having some slight difficulty figuring out where the final horcrux was, however. It was frustrating him. He was raking through various memories of Tom Riddle through Dumbledore's pensieve, when suddenly he found something. Voldemort was terrorizing two small children from his orphanage in a small cave in the yearly outing. Harry smiled with grim satisfaction. Of course, Voldemort would put his horcrux in some place of special significance. Terrorizing small children from the accursed orphanage that he had lived at would definitely qualify as a place of significance—after all, the placement of most of his horcruxes had had to do with his childhood so far.

Harry pulled himself out of the memory and looked at James and Sirius, who had been watching him.

"There's a cave where he tormented a couple of kids. I'll bet it's in there," Harry sighed. They were so close. Six down, one to go. This past year had been a nightmare if he'd ever had one, and Harry was hoping that he could have this crackpot dead by New Year's. Then at least he could have a good new year and forget his awful past. Harry resolved that he would wait for Ginny to finish Hogwarts and marry her, and live out his days as a Quidditch player so as to avoid the horrors that being an Auror offered. At this point Harry would be glad if he never had to fight ever again. A peaceful death in his sleep at an old age seemed to be a comfort anymore, a luxury he probably wouldn't get. James and Sirius nodded at his words and went to inform the Order of where they were going to go do. Harry prepared by slipping into comfortable, warm clothing and getting out his wand. He felt that this one would be a long haul. When James and Sirius returned, Harry quietly told them where they were going, and that he wanted only James to come along. Sirius nodded in understanding and with two pops Father and Son were gone.

They arrived on a cliff. Harry could smell the salty sea air. It was terribly cold, and Harry was glad that he had had enough sense to dress warmly. James looked down over the cliff. "You're sure this is the place?" he asked. Harry nodded absently.

"Yeah, I'm sure." He said. "Come on. This isn't our final destination." With that, Harry began to climb down below via jagged rocks that made for foot and hand holds. Knowing that they had to do this, James followed. He knew enough from Voldemort to know that they couldn't simply apparate. When they were a little closer to the water Harry pointed. "See that? Where the water is swirling? That's the cave. It'd be faster if we jumped. The water will be cold, so be prepared," Harry said, and with that he jumped into the icy water below. Reluctantly, James did the same. Harry treaded water for a moment to light his wand, then, putting it in his teeth, he swan into the dark tunnel that was the cave. Eventually they came to a point in which it was possible to walk, and so Harry and James both did so, stepping up steps to a large cave. It looked to James to be a dead end. Harry walked around, feeling along the cave. "It isn't a dead end," Harry said, as if answering James' unspoken question. James had learned not to ask Harry how he knew things. He, like Dumbledore, worked in strange ways. He'd obviously picked up a thing or two from him. James guessed that having Dumbledore's memories had helped. James wasn't sure how much Dumbledore had actually put in his pensieve, but he guessed that it was a lot.

Harry stopped when he found a place. "This is the entrance. Hang on, I'm freezing." Harry muttered a drying spell and then a warming spell. "You should perform one on yourself as well." Then Harry muttered something, and the outline of the door appeared. "Huh. Interesting, Tom. Interesting." Harry mumbled.

"What's interesting?" James couldn't resist to ask. Harry just said simply,

"We must make blood payment to pass." James sighed. This wasn't too uncommon for Voldemort, he had noticed. Moody, who had already lost so many body parts, had already had to give a finger to let them pass through some of Voldemort's guards. Harry took out a silver knife. He had been prepared for this. He made a shallow, diagonal slice across his hand and allowed it to drip on the stone. It opened as predicted. Harry gestured for James to follow him through.

It was completely dark, so Harry and James both lit their wands (Lumos Maximus) and continued though to a cavern. They were standing on the edge of a great black lake that emitted an eerie, greenish glow. "Don't step in the water," Harry warned. "Don't touch it even a little." James made sure he was careful to obey his son. They walked on for a while until James became frustrated.

"Can't we just summon the thing?" he asked. Harry gave him an amused expression.

"Sure. Be my guest," he said. James obliged confidently. There was a noise like an explosion and something large and pale erupted out of the water about twenty feet away and then vanished. James' eyes were wide.

"What was that?" he asked in alarm. Harry shrugged.

"Not sure. Something to stop us, of course. Come on then," Harry said. They continued on for a while until Harry stopped. "Aha," harry said. James looked around, bewildered.

"Aha what?" he asked. Harry smiled.

"Found it," he said. He tapped the air with his fist and wand, and out of nowhere a copper chain fell into his hand. He tapped it with his wand again and it was pulled through his hand and into a coil on the ground steadily.

"This is the horcrux?" James asked doubtfully. Harry grinned.

"Oh no," he said. "But it will help get us there. Look." James obeyed. There was a boat coming toward them. It reached the shore with a gentle bump.

"Are we going to get into that thing? Is it even safe?" James asked. He always felt very ignorant in matters of Voldemort whenever he was with his son, which seemed terribly ironic and terribly sad for the boy. Harry nodded.

"Should be," He got into the boat. "Quickly." James got in the boat as well and they set off. "Watch out," Harry warned and James turned inside the small boat in alarm. A cold, dead, white hand was clasping onto the side of the boat. "Wasn't meant for two wizards," Harry mumbled as he set the hand on fire. It recoiled. Harry cast a speed charm on the little boat and soon they reached an island. "Out. Fast." James was used to his short, unexplained directions and quickly followed. "We'll have to fight them soon, but they're slow."

"Inferi," James said. Harry nodded.

"Disgustingly, yes." Harry sighed. He turned to a basin that emitted a green glow. He stuck his hand near it. "Can't touch it…hmph." He conjured a goblet. "Has to be drunk…make sure I keep drinking." James looked at him in alarm.

"Are you INSANE?" James shouted. Harry looked at him, an eyebrow raised.

"No. It's the only way to get the horcrux. I must do it quickly before the inferi catch up with us. He dipped the goblet into the basin. "Cheers," he said, and drank up. When he finished, he said. "No…it won't kill me. In fact, me it won't even harm." Harry took goblet after goblet until the inferi finally started to show up. James threw flaming curse after curse at them until Harry yelled in triumph as he grabbed a locket at the bottom of the basin. He helped his father with the flame and they both jumped into the boat. Harry cast another speed charm, and the inferi, distracted by the ring of fire around them, did not seem to notice. "One alone could not have done it," Harry murmured and as they got out of the boat on the other side, Harry sighed mournfully. "I know where Dumbledore rests, Dad. It is here. Once it's all over, we must come and destroy this evil place." Harry took his goblet and dipped it in the water, taking a swig. "It breaks the curse," he explained. The two left and, once they'd reached the water outside, they apparated away.

Once they were at the house, James couldn't help but ask.

"Harry, what curse was there? You didn't seem to react to it at all." Harry smiled woefully at him.

"Oh, I was effected all right, but it didn't do much to me. You see, the potion made you relive guilty moments and brought back the guilt ten-fold. I don't have much to feel guilty about, so it didn't do much to me. To a normal, sinful person it would have incapacitated them. I fear it did that to Dumbledore, and the inferi got him. Normally, one could not go through that ordeal alone." Harry took the locket out of his pocket. "I'm afraid we did all of that for nothing, though." James' eyes went wide.

"What do you mean?"

"This isn't a horcrux," he said. He opened up the locket. A piece of very old parchment fell into Harry's hands. He smiled when he read it. "No worries," Harry said. "They've all been destroyed anyway." Harry gave him the parchment. "Bravo, Regulus, bravo." James took the note and knew what he meant. James gave a weak smile. They apparated from the Order's HQ, Number Four Grimmauld Place, to back home where they called Sirius in. They gave him the note and told him that his little brother had died in honor, not as a snake. Sirius looked shocked, and he quickly excused himself. Harry and James didn't blame him—a man had the right to cry in private. Harry sat with grim satisfaction. The Horcruxes were all destroyed now. There was only one last thing to do, and that was to go after the big guy himself.

Harry got his chance not too long after the Horcrux. The death eaters decided that another attack on Hogwarts would be a good idea. The Order members there held them off until they all came. Harry searched for Voldemort himself. He found Voldemort standing there, waiting. Harry stood across from him.

"Ah, Mr. Evans. I was wondering when you would join me," he said cordially. Harry inclined his head and raised his wand.

"Mr. Riddle. I was wondering when you'd stop cowering and show yourself." This of course, made him angry, and the duel began. Harry was terribly bloody and he had a few near scares with the Avada Kedavra curse, but then Harry thought of his father, of Ginny, of Ron and Hermione and all of the people who loved him and who he loved, of all the people he needed to protect. He felt warmth wash over him and he put all the power he had in him and all the love into one curse—petrificus totalus. Voldemort went rigid and fell to the floor. Surprisingly, even with his legimens he hadn't been expecting it. Harry knew immediately that the love that he had had protected him. Harry squatted over him. "By the way," Harry said, "My name's been legally changed. I'm Harry Evans-Potter, weren't you informed?" Harry held a twisted smile. "I guess Voldemort isn't all knowing after all. Goodbye, old enemy. May your death be as horrific as your life." With that Harry pointed his wand at him, and, instead of in hate did he raise it, but in mercy. This man didn't deserve to die—he deserved a fate worse than death, but he was too dangerous to keep around. He had to protect those he loved. "Avada Kedavra." A white light erupted from Harry's wand. It hit Voldemort, and the Dark Lord was no more. All that was left of him was a black mark on the polished marble floor. Harry pocketed his wand and walked away.

Overall, the day was a good day. There were many deaths in that final battle, but Voldemort was finally gone. The Dementors were back to obeying the Ministry, and all of the death eaters were imprisoned. There were celebrations. Harry really wouldn't remember much of that night, or of the nights that whole week, but he remembered that it was a good, fun week indeed. Harry sighed as he collapsed onto his bed in his Father's house. Yes, this was where he belonged. This was how he belonged. He smiled. He liked his new destiny—to live out his life with those he loved. Yes, it was a good fate indeed.


	15. The Next Greatest Adventure

Chapter Fifteen—The Next Greatest Adventure

A/N: Final Chapter. There is no sequel guys, sorry.

"Do you, Harry James Evans-Potter take Ginerva Weasley to be your lawfully wedded wife?" asked the priest. Harry smiled, looking at Ginny.

"I do," Harry said.

"And do you, Ginerva Weasley, take Harry James Evans-Potter to be your lawfully wedded husband?" Ginny smiled right back at Harry.

"I do," she said.

"Then by the power invested in me, I pronounce you Husband and Wife. You may now kiss the bride," the priest said, shutting his little book and leaving the altar as they kissed and the audience cheered enthusiastically. They walked down the aisle, Harry smiling all the while.

Their wedding reception was fantastic of course. Harry found himself on a cloud most of the night. People were constantly coming up to congratulate them. Even Ron and a pregnant Hermione came up to give them hugs. Hermione was in tears—Ron was simply beaming. He remembered just how much he loved his friends in that moment. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley came up to congratulate them as well. They had been like parents to Harry before he met his real father, and now they were his parents as well. Mrs. Weasley, like Hermione was in tears, and Mr. Weasley was in a similar mood to Ron's. His Father approached him, smiling and he had tears in his eyes.

"I'm so proud of you, Harry," he said. Harry smiled. It was hard to believe that three years ago he had hated this man beyond belief.

"I love you, Dad," he said simply, and the two men embraced earnestly. Sirius came up to Harry and ruffle his hair.

"That's my Mini-James. Marrying a redhead," Sirius teased. Harry grinned at him.

"That's right," Harry said. "Potter men just have good taste in women." Ginny laughed.

"Oh, I don't know. There was that thing with Cho," Ginny said slyly. Harry grinned at her.

"Don't remind me," he said with a laugh. Everybody smiled. Remus came up and offered his congratulations, as did a number of other people later. Harry took Ginny out onto the dance floor and they danced most of the night away. Harry couldn't count how many times that night he said "I love you". Ginny couldn't either. They were both stuck in newly wed bliss.

"Do you remember when Lavender and Dean got married?" Ginny asked him. Harry murmured that he did. Yes, that had been a surprise most certainly. They had married and not long after Lavender was pregnant. There was a baby boom after the end of the war, with lots of little wizards and witches being born in the Pax Romana. Harry and Ginny both secretly hoped that they would have a baby of their own soon. Harry, having never had a sibling always wondered what it would be like to have his own, large family, and Ginny, coming from a large family herself, wanted a big one as well (though perhaps not quite so large).

After the defeat of Voldemort everything was at peace. James and Harry had gone back to that awful lake, and, since the spells had been taken from the bodies when Voldemort had died, they drained the lake, did the painstaking work of identifying the bodies and gave them all proper funerals. They found Dumbledore's body and gave him the grandest funeral of all. Harry could have sworn that all of the wizarding world had attended the funeral. It could be compared to perhaps the death of a pope. Fawkes had died for good at the funeral, but it had left a baby Phoenix behind, which had dubbed itself Harry's. Harry had named it Talon and it hardly ever left him alone. Harry was grateful for it's companionship. Hedwig was, too.

Dumbledore had a permanent white tomb on Hogwarts grounds that Harry frequently visited. He also frequented Dumbledore's portrait, just to talk to him, even though the portrait Dumbledore had warned him that, like the mirror of erised, what he saw and heard was a magical illusion. Harry understood and accepted that, but still talked to him anyway. After all, the portrait still gave good counsel, even if it was just a painting.

For the first time in fifty years, a Defense teacher held a job for two years in a row. Sirius went back to teaching while James went back to being an Auror. It appeared that the curse on the defense teachers had been lifted. Remus continued his work as Care of the Magical Creatures teacher for Hogwarts. All was as it should be at the school.

Though Harry hadn't really needed it, he went back to school for his last year at Hogwarts, graduating at the same time as Ginny. Afterwards they had gotten engaged and were married the following September in Hogwarts' own Great Hall.

Professor McGonagall continued to be Deputy Headmistress for Hogwarts and was doing increasingly better. Appearently it is easier to manage a school in times of peace than in times of war (even though the students are more likely to pull pranks). The sorting hat returned to its normal song, and the Headmistress had taken the tradition of singing the school song again (though, being the smart woman that she was, she gave it a set tune). The world couldn't be more at peace and happy.

Harry sat back down at a table with his wife to cut the wedding cake. It was very good cake, made by Dobby himself. Harry smiled as he thought of the little elf. He had married Winky, and he couldn't help but notice that Winky had become a much happier creature after that.

As to the Ministry itself, it was as stupid as ever, but at least Scrimgeour had some sense and solved some of the problems of the wizarding world. Mr. Weasley even got a promotion and a much-deserved and much needed raise. Harry couldn't help but smile when he thought of how surprised Mr. Weasley had been. Percy had long since been talking to them again, and had rejoined the side of the light as opposed to the side of the Ministry. He had married Penelope Clearwater, and they had one child, a little girl named Cynthia. Harry was glad that the Weasley family was all together again.

Harry saw a Prophet reporter approach him, but luckily it was a friendly face—Parvati Patil.

"Hi Harry! Hi Ginny! Congratulations on your wedding!" she said. Harry and Ginny smiled and said their thanks. "Can I just ask you guys a question for The Daily Prophet?" At Harry's nod she continued, "So, Mr. Evans-Potter, now that all of your grand adventures are over and you're married, what's next? Won't life be boring?" Harry just smiled at her.

"You know, a wise man once told me a piece of advice. He said 'to the organized mind, death is but the next greatest adventure.' You know, I agree with him on that. I plan to live out my life to its fullest and wait for my next greatest adventure, be it death or something else. Let me tell you Padma, life is nothing to be wasted. Life is to love and be loved, and that in itself is the next greatest adventure."

The End.


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